In a Mirror, Festively
by SynapticFirefly
Summary: Eric Cartman just wants his charities to succeed for the holidays. It just sucks living in a universe where beards are commonplace and being evil is rewarded. And with Christmas purges and his own depraved boyfriend trying to put the kibosh on his good deeds, will Eric get the Christmas miracle he deserves? Probably not.
1. The Day Before Hanukkah

There's a tiny town nestled in almost permanent winter just a short mile away from snowy peaked mountains. In another universe it's home to quirky adventures where children roamed without supervision and yet, by the end of the day, status quo returned and the next morning they were back to the slapstick humor that made them oh so quirky.

But fuck that universe. Look through a pond or a shiny surface and take a gander at your reflection. You'll find that things just aren't the same beyond the looking glass. Perhaps it's even… _mirrored_.

This is how the story goes.

In _this_ South Park, it's a cruel and vicious town helmed by an absolute bitch-wad of a mayor. They single-handedly dragged Colorado up the number two spot of the most unfriendly place in America.

They use 'unfriendly' because it's nice word to call it. The town was far, far worse otherwise.

So why not number one? Because of _Eric Theodore Cartman_ \- the nicest, sweetest, most gentle young man you will ever meet in this little mountain town. He was such a literal saint, he saved South Park from winning Detroit's title just for _existing_ , and he's pissed off a hell of a lot of people for it.

Eric was so nice it was often a burden for the students of South Park High, who had to deal with his insufferable character on a day-to-day basis. What's the absolute worst thing he's done throughout his academic career?

 _Charity drives._ Thanksgiving donations for hungry families like Kenny McCormick's. Anti-bullying campaigns and fundraisers that no one goes to or puts money in, but somehow manages to reach their target goals every single time.

He was doing it again this year too. Humming _Jingle Bell Rock_ under his breath, Eric absently opened his locker, peeled off his red jacket, and dreamed about the good he could do for his charity Christmas drive. This year, he wants to go door-to-door and sell homemade Christmas items to meet his target goal.

Stan thinks he's a pussy for even suggesting it.

Eric doesn't have much friends. And if his bleeding heart helped move that process along his entire life, Kyle made sure anyone who even tried had their names dragged through the mud until they too were social outcasts.

The thought of Kyle's handsome sneer made Eric shiver under his homemade Christmas sweater. He shouldn't like Kyle. Kyle was everything _not_ him. He was vicious, cruel, and scheming. He held himself to a greater standard than the others thanks to his Judaism. That alone made him so selective and privileged, he was instantly a part of the upper tier social ladder.

Eric liked to think that they were at least friends. Why else would someone as powerful and rich as Kyle purposefully hang out with him otherwise?

And from within Kyle's tight circle came the most depraved to follow: Stan Marsh - the one who would gleefully torture your mother if you so much as looked at a rabbit wrong, and Kenny McCormick - the newest town whore that would mug you first before blowing you in gratitude.

These three were his 'friends'. Heaven help him.

"Hey fatass."

He should have paid attention to his lethal surroundings. Eric gasped in surprise before he was shoved face first into his own locker. He was suddenly pinned hard by a slender and strong body that would have taken his breath away if the locker hadn't had done it first.

"H-hey, Kyle…" he whimpered. He tried to smile and ignore the way the ginger boy conspicuously rolled his sharp hips hard against his backside. For mercy's sake, they were at _school_. Someone could…

Kyle Broflovski leered at him through the mirror Eric purposely put in the back of his locker. There were just too many times he was caught unawares by a student looking to beat the shit out of him, and Kyle wasn't the only one trying to molest or beat him up between breaks.

But Kyle is all smiles today. His auburn goatee was neatly trimmed and sharp, and it helped frame the auburn curls that made the teen look so devastatingly handsome under his dark green ushanka and burnt orange jacket. He's wearing tight jeans today, the kind that he knows drives Eric's sweet thoughts into a tizzy of lust, because Eric can feel the familiar rough denim slide against his ass. It reminded him of entanglements in the back of his truck or the way the waistband squeezed into his fingers when he pulled down on command.

Kyle hummed in content from behind. Oh dear. He was in a happy, festive mood today - which meant someone somewhere was having a _very_ bad one.

A sharp whine leaves Eric's throat when Kyle bites him hard on the ear. It gives the feral teen the opportunity to wrap his palm around Eric's throat and pull, exposing a pale neck just primed for a switchblade.

Fortunately for Eric, Kyle was in a hornier mood than a bloodthirsty one. Instead of a knife, Kyle used his tongue to lick one lewd wet stripe from the base of Eric's throat to the jawbone that curved toward his ear.

Eric's lips part in a breathless exhale as Kyle weaved an arousing spell into his skin using only his tongue and the occasional teeth. "Ngh… K-Kyle…"

Kyle answered with a rough snort. It sounded like an animal holding down his prey instead of a human. And if this hadn't been a school hallway, Eric might have been worried about getting fucked right then and there.

Then again, it wouldn't be the first time Kyle's rutted him into a panting mess in a crowded hallway.

Kyle finished the public display by dragging his fingernails hard across Eric's cheeks and squeezed, puckering Eric's lips on purpose for a messy, wet kiss. It's not nice and certainly not as romantic as Eric would have liked, but he couldn't help the soft keening moan that left his lips before Kyle snatched the bottom one tautly between his perfect white teeth.

He didn't know how he did it, but Eric had somehow wrangled one of the most evil and privileged boys to ever to walk this school's hallways. Kyle Broflovski was a dangerous individual, using logic and reason to justify his evildoing. He's even got a large gang of ginger students at his beck and call - a group rightfully wrestled away from Eric's half-brother who wanted him dead.

Eric doesn't want to recall what Kyle did to Scott, but it had something to do with a woodchipper and a hacksaw on Valentine's Day - and not in that particular order. He shivered just thinking about it.

"Hmm… you're shaking like a leaf," Kyle teased. His other hand dips down to squeeze at the thick flesh just over Eric's hip, rubbing at the soft fleece of his sweater in a not so appropriate way. "You'd think that gay ass sweater would keep your tubby ass warm. Rudolph? Seriously?"

"It's the holidays, Kyle," Eric said softly to his reflection, but his embarrassment lost to the sensual movement of Kyle's fingers. Their eyes meet and it's one of those romantic moments Eric wants to keep to memory. There's no spitting or rough housing - it's simply them so close together that it makes Eric's heart skip and hum with love.

It ends when Kyle scoffed again and shoved him back into the locker, but it doesn't end there. Eric was twisted around and forced to endure their holiday tradition of people snickering and laughing at his festive sweater while Kyle joins them - but only _his_ laughter is hypnotic and sensual to Eric's ears.

He doesn't blush anymore at the public humiliation. It lost its bite enduring it every single day of his life. Still, he can't help but tug shyly at the hem of his sweater which only made Kyle's sharp green eyes burn in both lust and humor.

When Eric is finally unable to withstand the taunts any longer, Kyle ends the spectation with a snap.

"Alright, show's over assholes. God, you mouth breathers would laugh at your own toilet shit wouldn't you?"

The students immediately depart the hallway to go back on their merry evil ways. Sometimes a poor unsuspecting fool would insult Kyle behind his back.

"Ha! Faggot!"

This was one of those days.

Out of sheer instinct, Eric grabbed at Kyle's jacket when those warm green eyes turned into solid stone. It was the _holidays_. He didn't want to see Kyle commit another round of first degree murder for the second time this week.

Unfortunately for the ballsy tenth grader, he was suddenly gutted from behind before Kyle could do anything about it. Eric gaped in horror when the boy collapsed forward into a dying, twitching heap on the floor.

Stan's cold gaze was not on his victim, but at the stain it made on his jacket. With a chill expression, he brushed a bit of the blood from his shoulder and wiped the switchblade with his gloves.

"God, you're so sloppy," Kyle chastised. Stan only grinned at them in greeting. Not one thought was given to the unresponsive boy on the floor. Eric was stopped by Kyle's warning glare before he could help staunch the wound or call for a nurse like usual.

Oh, those poor janitors.

"I missed the sweater event, didn't I?" Like clockwork, Kenny slid himself by Eric's side to maliciously pluck at a stray thread. Eric bit his lip and shied away from the boy's touch before he actually tried to unravel it. "Jesus Cartman, you've got the most unsexiest outfits on the fucking planet. Fucking virgin."

There was a dying teen on the floor and they were making conversation about his sweater. It was fucked up.

"He's not a virgin," Kyle said smugly. "Aren't you, _Eric_?"

He used his first name. A flashback of questing fingers and a heated mouth filled Eric's thoughts at once. Flushing, Eric shook away the sinful memories and distracted himself by pulling out a clipboard instead.

Kenny's nose wrinkled at the cheerful Christmas stickers plastered all over it.

"Um… so I'm doing another charity drive, you guys!" Eric responded instead with a sweet smile. "This time it's for the homeless war veterans! Can I count on your guys' donations? Five dollars goes a long way-"

The words died in his throat. Stan decided his time was better spent kicking half-heartedly at the corpse while Kenny fished through his pockets for cash and valuables. Kyle was the only one paying attention to him, but it was obvious he couldn't give a rat's ass about homeless veterans either.

"Every year you do this," Kyle accused with a roll of his eyes. "You book the Airport Hilton and you do all these fucking charity drives, but no one goes to them, Cartman. Do you know why? No one cares."

Eric pressed the clipboard hard against his chest. "I care," he said softly, and the conviction in his blue eyes made the corners of Kyle's lips quirk with interest. "So long as one person cares about the less fortunate then that's all that matters!"

Stan laughed while Kenny humped the air over the body now that he was done looting. "Fuck humans-"

"-don't mind if I do," Kenny quipped.

"-animals are better," Stan continued serenely. "I'll put money into ALF first before I help some dirty homeless fucker." There's an unhinged look in his eyes that never failed to make Eric's hair stand up on end. It wouldn't be the first time Stan had fantasized about torturing someone for the rights of animals and it certainly wouldn't be last.

Eric is unable to handle the desecration of the corpse any longer so he ends up burying his head into his locker again. Kyle quickly took the advantage of sliding his hips back against Eric's ass and slink his arms around his large waist. It's not comfort - it's dominance - and it makes Stan snort with disgust.

"What do you see in that fat asshole?"

"I've got a thing for teddy bears," Kyle simply replied while Eric squirmed under his grip.

It distracted Eric enough to whimper, "B-but you always destroy the ones I make for you..."

"Mmm... not a bad idea. Should I wreck you, Eric?" Kyle licked lewdly along the shell of Eric's ear. "It's been awhile since I've had that ass." Eric faltered under the slide of fingers around his belly and hiccupped when Kyle goes lower than necessary. He started when Kyle suddenly pried the clipboard away and tossed it over his shoulder. It clattered loudly on the floor behind them.

"I'll give you a proper Hanukkah celebration, Cartman," he promised hoarsely and it's oh so tempting. Eric's knees began to shake at the idea. "Just you, me, and eight nights of fun."

Eric stuttered out, "Eight?"

" _Eight_ ," Kyle purred and it's enough to get Kenny salivating like a dog in heat. The warning bell for first period rings and it's enough for Eric to snap out of it. He stumbled out of his boyfriend's grip to take back the clipboard Kenny dangled over his head with.

"I can't!" he shook his head. "My charity drive-"

"Jesus Christ," Stan sneered. "Are you seriously passing up sex for the fucking homeless? One day you're going to grow up and stop acting like a pussy, Cartman. And you better do it quick because it's either that or _this_." He popped open his butterfly knife with ease and Eric visibly gulped at the sight. Both Stan and Kenny laughed harshly at him before leaving the two lovebirds behind for algebra - if they even attempted going _this_ time.

Eric doesn't understand when Kyle shoved him hard back into the lockers to steal back the clipboard. "Kyle?"

Kyle broke the clipboard clean in half over his knee and dropped the pieces at Eric's feet. The love is gone and he's left with a heavy heart. He desperately sought out those cold green eyes. "W-why?"

"I'm going to drag your lardass back to reality," Kyle replied coldly. "The sooner you get it through your fat head, the better off you'll be. Good will? Kindness? That shit doesn't survive in this world, Cartman. You're going to piss off the wrong person and you'll end up in some fucking dumpster without your shoes. And guess what? Like your charity drives, no one's going to be there for your funeral. So quit trying to be a fucking saint and get with the program."

Eric tried to maintain some kind of dignity by picking up the pieces. Kyle watched him scrounge around like an idiot, then scoffed and walked away. He stopped when Eric's words cut into his back like shrapnel.

"I know you're scared for me, Kyle," Eric whispered, "but I can't give up. I know there's still good in the world. What better to celebrate it than Christmas?" Even after being so cruel, he was unable to muster anger for Kyle. He's a product of this universe's vicious nature - he couldn't help that. All Eric could do was simply _love_ him.

Kyle answers by leaving and Eric is left in the empty hallway to literally pick up the pieces.


	2. The First Night of Hanukkah

There was a big party going down at Kyle's house, but Eric wasn't invited as usual. Instead, he spent the beginning of winter break going door-to-door for donations with his best Christmas sweater and a giant rolling suitcase filled with kitschy ornaments. His hair was styled back and his pants were ironed; he looked the spitting image of a disarming choir boy. If he didn't, he might be in trouble.

This was South Park, the second most dangerous town in America. Your appearance was one gunshot away from walking or dying.

He rang the first doorbell. A beautiful, but sour looking blond woman opened the door and peered down disdainfully at him with a can of Pabst Blue Ribbon in one hand and trigger happy fingers in the other.

"Hello, Ms. James," Eric greeted with a sweet smile. Before her hand disappeared out of frame to grab a weapon, he opened his palms in a gesture of peace. "I'm not armed! I've visited you for the past two years, remember?"

"Oh." She lowered her AK-47. "You're the fat kid who begs around for cash, ain't ya?"

"It's for a good cause, ma'am," he replied and started fishing for his red Christmas pail of donations. "I heard your father's a war veteran. Well, I'm here to speak on behalf of him and the great service his fellow comrades have done in sacrifice for this country. Did you know that over sixty percent of veterans go without proper healthcare due to convoluted bureaucracy?"

Her lovely features suddenly twisted into an ugly sneer. "My father is a drunk motherfucker who can't keep his hands off of me. I'd rather he'd end up frozen in a ditch somewhere with his nuts hangin' off an evergreen befor' I ever spend a fuckin' food stamp on him!"

Thankfully, she slammed the door in his face instead of shooting him, which gave Eric ample time to just stand there and process what the hell just happened.

"Evergreen? How awfully descriptive," Eric muttered before turning away for the next house.

He knew which houses to avoid and which ones were the least threatening. Most if not all of South Park's neighborhood had rabid dogs and booby traps to deter the occasional solicitor and/or trespassers, but Eric was well-knowledgeable of them all - and he needed to if he wanted to survive next Christmas. He spent plenty of fundraisers staring down the wrong end of a shotgun and it was his sweet and apologetic nature, oddly enough, that tends to grant him a second chance of life.

Sometimes he wondered why the universe wanted to keep someone like him alive. It was plenty obvious he didn't belong in such a bloodthirsty world.

* * *

"Kyle, why do you think I'm still… you know… _alive_?"

"Do I look like a fucking fortune cookie? I don't know either," Kyle answered before taking a slow drag of his cigarette. "But I've got a…" he exhaled, "theory."

Eric paused from the lazy kisses he was pressing along Kyle's collarbone. "A theory?"

These were the last nights of summer. The weatherman reported a cold autumn front blowing in later in the week and Kyle wanted to take advantage of sweat and the summer breeze of Eric's open window while they still had the chance.

Eric naturally hated the summer. It made him sticky and sweaty thanks to his extra weight and Kyle was always determined to schedule sex in during heatwaves for some outrageous reason. He didn't know why - he didn't think it was very appealing to be drenched from head-to-toe in your own sweat. Perhaps Kyle just wanted an excuse to take advantage of the giant bathtub in his mother's bedroom. The Broflovski's couldn't install their own due to the shape of their house and being too sticky to function would be enough to get Liane's permission to use it.

The window was cracked open for them to breathe after a lengthy and demanding session in bed. Kyle had been especially enthusiastic after winning another turf war against Craig Tucker's gang and decided his victory was better spent fucking Eric into the mattress for nights on end. He hadn't gotten a wink of sleep the last few days dealing with his Jewish lover's insatiable appetite and maybe he never will. He just didn't think he could go another round again.

Kyle lived up to his threat. He really _did_ want to fuck him to death.

Eric was still trying to settle the rapid beating of his heart laying like this. Despite the warmth of his room, he covered his nude body with his thick blanket out of habit. On the other hand, Kyle looked utterly shameless lounging on top of his sheets wearing nothing but a lax grin and a cigarette between his fingers. The cold fixation of those green eyes had long since melted away and replaced with an almost curious expression.

It was secretly one of Eric's favorite moments with him. Kyle was much less paranoid when he's sexually satisfied - and he has to be on his guard constantly. Even _Stan_ would take advantage and kill him just for a taste of power. But here with Eric, he didn't have to worry. Eric had no compulsion to kill or climb up the ranks. He could fall into a deep sleep by his side and not have to keep an eye open for mischief. Eric would never hurt him and, in return, he often was gifted a rare glimpse of the Kyle he met in the other universe from that freak accident.

That Kyle was sweet, compassionate, and fucking adorable. They were the same - they had to be the same - because whenever his Kyle let his guard down, Eric saw it.

Kyle tapped away at the ashtray Eric kept specifically for him near the lamp before continuing. "Bear with me here. So… you're a fucking anomaly."

"Well that's not very nice," Eric pouted.

"Fuck your nice," Kyle said and let out a bark of laughter. Then his smile turned feral when he took in Eric's modest cover up. "Mmm… hey, that's not a bad idea. Round two?"

Eric's ass literally shot up in pain at the remark. He desperately shook his head and squeaked when Kyle slipped on top and peeled off the blanket. It fell into a heap on the floor. "No way! Oh God Kyle, please… I'm so sore…"

"You're not sore enough," Kyle purred and his hands slid up to pin Eric's reddened wrists to the mattress. His bare hips shifted just a bit, but it was enough to make Eric throw his head back and whimper. He parted his weak, trembling thighs upon command. He couldn't deny Kyle anything. Ever. "So innocent," Kyle sighed happily. "Too innocent. But look at you now, Eric. You look like a whore just begging for more."

"N-no…" Eric mewled. "Not a whore. Just you… Kyle. Just you."

Kyle gave a lazy thrust forward and Eric couldn't help but focus on the ceiling as they slowly rocked, the headboard creaking for the fifth time today. This time they were going slower. Perhaps Kyle was touched by Eric's half-fucked words of love and loyalty. All that mattered was his ass was thanking him for the good fortune as they did nothing but grind to the beat of music coming out of Eric's iDock.

"Just me…" Kyle mused thoughtfully. Eric was too lost in pleasure to form any sort of words. "You're a freak of nature, Cartman. And that's why no one's going to kill you but me."

It's probably the most romantic thing he's ever said to Eric. It's pathetic, it's not normal, but on the other side of the mirror, Kyle had just practically admitted he was smitten by Eric's sweetness.

"You're _mine_. Say it," he commanded.

"Ugh…"

" _Say it._ "

Eric decided they needed a conversation later about talking during sex. He just couldn't form the words in his head let alone say it out loud when half of his brainpower went straight to his dick. It was only when Kyle jerked his hips harsh enough that he ended up smacking the crown of his head against the wooden board did Eric finally get his tongue to move properly.

"I-I'm yours! Ow…!" he whimpered. Kyle laughed cruelly and started to move faster and his pain disappeared the moment Kyle's hand slipped between them and jerked at his half-hard cock.

Eric was lost in that haze again - never to return.

* * *

An entire morning and afternoon spent on his donation drive yielded little less than two bucks in the pail - and that was from Eric collecting spare change he happened to find on the sidewalk. His once optimistic streak petered out with every door slammed hard in his face.

By the time he passed by Kyle's house, the party was in full swing and he could see and hear the festivities of Hanukkah seeping out the olive colored walls. Oddly enough, Christmas music was muffling through the window, but then again, he supposed there wasn't much Hanukkah music to start with. Eric's heart skipped a beat when Kyle passed by the window with a glass of wine in hand. He was strikingly handsome in his dark sweater and khakis.

Eric couldn't help but approach the door and knocked on it.

Kyle didn't answer, but his mother did. Sheila blinked at him until her eyes narrowed suspiciously at his suitcase and bright red pail. "Oh. Hello Eric," she drawled softly. "I see you're doing another donation drive again. Cancer patients this time?"

"Not this time, Mrs. Broflovski," he smiled apologetically and shook the pail. "It's homeless veterans this year."

"I see…" She stood there for a moment as if deciding whether it was faster to chase him off with the dogs or just donate and be done with it. Eric sincerely hoped she decided on donating - he can't afford another rabies shot so close to the holiday season.

Before she could open her mouth, Eric could hear Kyle asking who it was over the music and party banter. She opted for the third option and let her son handle it instead.

Once she was out of earshot, Kyle propped his hip against the door frame and leaned with a wicked smile. "I see you've retired Rudolph."

Eric looked down at his latest Christmas sweater and shot him a gentle grin back. "It's Mister Hankey this time. You like him, don't you?"

Those green eyes warm over with nostalgia and perhaps a hint of fondness for his choice of attire. It literally made Eric melt. "I'll forgive your ugly sweater this time, fatass." He pointed at the pail. "Looks like you've gotten twice as much as last year."

Eric glanced at the wimpy donations and sighed. "Yeah, I guess." With the day ending, the cold winter front was starting to drop by from the mountains. He shivered, but it had little to do with the wind. It seemed like a tradition every year: he'd try to bring holiday cheer for the less fortunate and he always ended up alone in the snow.

Kyle watched him for a long strange moment before thumbing over his shoulder. "Get your ass in here, stupid. Fuck the veterans."

"I can't," Eric stressed down the invitation. He died a little doing it when the warm expression goes out like a light on Kyle's face. "The veterans need our support-"

"I don't see _them_ going door-to-door like a _putz_ asking for donations on your behalf," Kyle snarled. He goes from zero to ten so fast on his _fuck-yo-shit-o-meter_ , Eric couldn't help but jump in alarm. Kyle swooped down upon him so quickly, he almost dropped his pail.

"Nor did the cancer patients, or the orphans, or the starving kids in Africa," he continued viciously. "You're wasting time and money. You don't even get a _thank you_ for doing it."

Eric shook his head in desperation, his response low and leveled in the hope of calming Kyle down. "I'm not doing it for gratitude, Kyle. I just want to make the world a better place…"

"One dumbass in an ugly Christmas sweater isn't going to save the world," Kyle spat out like pure venom and slammed the door in his face like all the others.

Eric is left wondering if Kyle was really sore that he chose charity over him. _Again._


	3. The Second Night of Hanukkah

Eric spent the day preparing the charity drive at the Airport Hilton. Like last year, he was the only one to set up the tables that never filled or the buffet that was never used. This time his mother did the catering so he could use the extra cash to raise the $5000 target goal faster.

He sent a text to Kyle and the others asking if they could watch his donation drive on cable access TV. Out of sheer determination, he secured the 11PM time slot on South Park's public-access channel for the week-long telethon. It cost him almost a year's worth of allowance, but it was worth securing it so close to the holidays.

Eric never got an answer back from Kyle or Stan and Kenny just asked if he could take advantage of the timeslot to put hardcore porn on instead. Kenny's family must have gotten caught stealing WiFi from Kyle's house again. No one understood how they went from being the richest house in the neighborhood to the poorest in the span of five years, but Eric had a pretty good idea.

Living a life of drugs, sex, and violence just wasn't a good thing at all.

Sighing from a long day's worth of work, Eric sat down on the empty stage and checked his phone again. Kyle's family was having another grand party with the other Jewish converts. His stomach flopped unpleasantly when he scrolled down and found a picture of Rebecca Cotswald's developing cleavage press against Kyle's arm on Facebook.

Doubt was chewing at him again. Here he was preparing for another failed charity drive while his boyfriend was being hounded left and right by his adoring admirers. Eric's expression crumpled. It should have been _him_ pressed against Kyle on his Facebook wall - not Rebecca.

Eric couldn't help but say something nice in the comments. _**that's a very kewl picture of you guys! haha**_ He didn't get any likes for the comment, but he was used to that by now. Eric was just glad Kyle still had him as a friend on Facebook.

Ignoring the picture for now, he chewed on his lip going through Kyle's Facebook page for the hundredth time. He's looked at it so much he could recall every bit of information by heart, but what he was checking and rechecking over and over for wasn't his status updates.

Kyle Broflovski's relationship status: single.

They've been together for _five_ years now.

Suppressing the urge to sniffle, Eric couldn't help but try and break Kyle's silence with him. He was probably still angry with him over yesterday and it just wasn't in his nature to leave someone in ill spirits when it was his fault.

Guilty over what happened yesterday, Eric pulled up the Facebook Messenger app on his phone and desperately typed out a resolution for his mercurial boyfriend.

 **are u angry with me?**

Expecting to be ignored again, he almost dropped his phone at the near-instantaneous response.

 **Yes.**

Eric smiled pathetically and rubbed his cheek against the screen. Kyle was talking to him again.

 **im sorry kyle. i love u.**

There was no instant response this time. Eric cradled the phone to his chest and then looked around. No one was here to help him. Not even his mother. All he had was himself and the only link to Kyle in his tiny iPhone.

The response vibrated loudly against his collarbone. Eric eagerly checked the message.

 ** _Shayn_. Fuck the telethon. Come home.**

Eric's heart fluttered hard at the pet name. For the first time in his life, he wanted to. He even wanted to crash Kyle's party and be with him. Even with the risk of getting endlessly picked on by Stan or enduring Mr. and Mrs. Broflovski's glares, he'd do it.

He wanted to be with Kyle for Hanukkah.

His thumbs work the screen for a short moment and when he finished, he tried to choke back a sob at his own weakness.

 **i can't.**

Kyle didn't respond again.

* * *

It was Eric's eleventh birthday party and, like all of his other parties, it was very small and intimate. He learned by now that no one really liked him, but he sent out invitations anyways. Only three boys came - the same ones every year - but it was mostly to rip on him and take advantage of the delicious cake his mother was famous for.

Kenny arrived to devour half the cake and then stole the last third before he left. Kyle refused a slice due to his diabetes and Stan was more determined to lecture Liane about vegetarian alternatives. Eric had to patiently remind them that this was his birthday and that it wasn't polite to pull their weapons on each other over baking styles.

It _almost_ worked. Only half of their backyard fence was damaged by Stan's molotov cocktail this time.

None of them brought presents, but them being there to celebrate was a gift enough for Eric. He had let them have full range of the entertainment and food, because he was simply content to bask in this strange frenemy relationship he had with them.

They were the only people who acknowledged his existence, albeit barely. For all of their depravity, he treasured them.

Kyle had been less than enthused about the whole party. He sat on the bench and spent the remainder glaring at him like he was a bug that deserved to be squished under his expensive sneakers. Even when he racked up the highest kill count out of them all, Eric couldn't help but be drawn to the ginger boy. It was stupid and pathetic, but Eric had nursed a small crush since well… forever probably.

Maybe he wasn't that out of place with the others after all. Even someone as pure and good as Eric Cartman wasn't immune to that devilish charm.

Ever playing the gracious host, Eric couldn't help but shimmy over next to him on the bench. "Aren't you enjoying the party, Kyle?" It wasn't the best opening, but Eric wanted the excuse to sit next to him without fear of getting shanked.

"No," Kyle said simply. "But that's not the point, is it? This is _your_ party, Cartman."

He didn't like it when he called him Cartman, but it was better than fatass he supposed. "Well… the party is for me, yeah, but I just want my friends to have fun."

"I'm not your friend." And it's enough for Eric to look away and try not to cry. Kyle rolled his eyes. "Don't be a pussy, _shayn_."

Shayn? It must be another insult in that Jewish tongue. Eric sniffed sadly, but he was eleven now and he needed to stop acting like a baby. He fought with himself for a moment and tried to take Kyle's advice to heart, but his concentration was immediately dashed the moment he felt gloved fingers splay against his back.

His heart thumping hard in his chest, Eric stiffened from the soothing motions down his spine and across his shoulder blades. "K…Kyle?"

There was a flicker of something strange in Kyle's eyes. It was calculating, but anticipated. "Do you want your present?" he asked thickly.

What happened afterwards was almost a blur for Eric. One moment he was nodding eagerly and the next he was being dragged up to his own room once the party ended. He could hear his mother talking on the phone to someone in the kitchen and it dawned on him. What if Kyle's 'present' would require her interference?

He was nice, but he wasn't _stupid_.

"It's not gonna hurt, is it?" Eric asked meekly the second he was pushed into the room. He didn't like pain and he had too many memories being the butt end of Kyle and Stan's schemes. It was a wonder how he managed to reach his eleventh birthday from the stories he could recount.

He gulped when Kyle smartly locked the door and gave the room a good look. It was like he was considering the best way to stain his plum colored walls with blood. Then he sized him up like he was a grade A moron. "When's the last time I've ever hurt you, fatass?"

"Well, you called me fatass now, so…"

He rolled his eyes. "I mean _physically_ , dumb shit."

Eric was surprised to find he didn't have a recent answer for it. Sure Kyle threatened to maim and kill him on a daily basis, but he never went forward on them. Not like the others. Like when Kyle promised Bebe he'd steal her kidney overnight to save Kenny's sister from dialysis - he followed up on that promise. Now her window's been replaced with bulletproof glass.

A memory did stick with him however. "Preschool."

Kyle raised his eyebrow. "Preschool?"

"Yeah…" Eric sat down on the edge of his bed, his baby blue eyes glazed over from nostalgia. "Trent Boyett was giving you a hard time, so I was your practice dummy."

Sharp green eyes lit up in surprise. "You still remember that?" he asked in such a low, coy tone it started to make Eric a bit nervous.

How could he forget? "We hid under the crayon table," Eric recalled with a frown. "You climbed on top of me and tried to choke me to death." He remembered tiny gloved fingers trying to wrap around his thick throat, but to no avail. Kyle had spent the entire nap time experimenting how to best steal Eric's breath so he can do it to Trent Boyett next time.

He had whined from the pressure of Kyle's small determined hands and bony knees digging into his sides. His throat was much too thick to be effective, but afterwards Kyle gave up and found content spending the half hour sitting on his chubby stomach and flexing his grip on Eric's neck and shoulders.

Eric remembered how they just _looked_ at each other. There were no words for fear of alerting the teacher - just Kyle nonverbally squeezing his neck and Eric answering back with just his eyes and the grit in his teeth like it was a special secret between them.

They spent more time with each other after that. Kyle even beat up another kid for his lunch because Eric was still hungry during snack time. The fatass thing started from there too.

Kyle was now staring at him the same way he did when he was a toddler. Eric warily watched Kyle cross the room until they bumped knees.

"You know…" Kyle mused, those green eyes glittering down at Eric with something indecipherable. "That was fun. Why don't we do it again for ol' time's sake?"

Eric gaped at him in horror. Kyle had been too young and inexperienced to succeed that time. This time? He was sure the Jew had long since perfected the art of strangulation. Eric squeaked in alarm when he was suddenly shoved backwards onto his bed, the springs creaking loud in his ears.

Kyle jumped on top of him so quick, Eric thought he had whiplash. He squirmed under Kyle's hold out of sheer instinct. "Y-you said it wouldn't hurt!"

"No I didn't." He pinned Eric's thick wrists down with surprising strength. "Pay attention, fatass."

"Please don't!" Eric whimpered desperately. "It's my birthday, Kyle!"

Those green eyes blinked down at him as if thoughtful. "Hmm… so it is," Kyle decided gently. Then he added as an afterthought, "How does this feel?"

"What?"

"How does this feel?" Kyle repeated and he suddenly shifted upwards until he was seated comfortably on his stomach just like back in preschool. The pressure was alien, but strangely safe and intimate.

Instead of fear, Eric started to blush. It was actually comforting with Kyle like this - just sitting on top of him and nothing else more. Kyle smirked down at his positive reaction and laced their fingers together.

"Does this hurt, _shayna_?" he inquired with a sly purr. "Don't be shy. You're a big boy now. Well…" he suddenly snorted and squeezed at his large belly with his knees. "…in more ways than one."

"I… I like it," Eric admitted shyly. When Kyle raised an eyebrow, he added quickly, "I like it when you're sweet to me." It was a secret he swore to keep with him to the grave, but with them like this, maybe the secret could be reality. He smiled nervously. "It makes me happy."

"Does it?" Kyle replied off-handedly. He seemed honestly distracted about something. Eric wondered if this was a good thing or not. "I guess letting you live would be a nice birthday present, huh?"

"I would like another birthday party, yes." His comment made Kyle laugh. It was short and rich and Eric tried to commit the sound to memory. "Was that it? Letting me live?"

Kyle then turned thoughtful and strangely quiet. His adam's apple even started bobbing in his throat with what felt like hesitation. Kyle never hesitated doing _anything_. Now Eric was starting to worry.

He squeezed their fingers together. "Kyle?"

"Close your eyes," Kyle commanded out of the blue but, without hesitation, Eric took in a deep breath and did as he was told. It was a stupid move - so stupid in fact, he might just deserve losing his life over it.

He could feel Kyle still before he exhaled in utter disbelief. Then there was a shift in weight and…

Eric's eyelids flew open the moment something soft and warm pressed against his lips. Blue connected with intense green. It was a literal supernova. Reality tore itself and a single point in him suddenly expanded into infinity. His insignificant childhood crush evolved in a wash of desire and possibilities.

It was just a kiss. A tiny, surprisingly gentle kiss. But it became the highlight of Eric's entire world knowing that it was _Kyle._ Was this even happening?

"Are you fucking crying?" Kyle sputtered out in disgust. Eric tried to brush away the stray tears, but Kyle did it for him with a sigh and a swipe of his thumb. The action almost made him cry again.

"My… my first kiss…" Eric tried to articulate his feelings aloud. It felt like a dream - it had to be a dream. Kyle could have anyone in South Park. They weren't even friends.

But Kyle didn't want to be friends. He leaned forward and spelled it out for him by tracing his lips against Eric's cheek to sample his tears. "You okay?"

"…yeah," Eric finally sighed in content. He didn't want it to end. He didn't want this to be just a joke. He could spend the rest of his life laying here with Kyle's comforting weight and sweet kisses. Everything beyond these very walls could have ceased to exist and it wouldn't matter at all.

"Good answer," Kyle purred softly before taking back those lips. "I wasn't gonna let you get away with anything else. Happy fucking birthday."

* * *

Eric yearned for hours spent in warm houses and lazy kisses. He ended up returning home with three dollars to his name and his sweater wet and cold from the sudden snowstorm on the way back. His mother called out that it was almost time to shut the house down for curfew, but her words were just static to his cold sensitive ears.

He retreated to his room and peeled off his sweater and jeans. It was cold in here too, colder than usual, and he couldn't help but shiver before sliding into the sheets in nothing but his boxers and an undershirt.

Five years ago he had his first kiss on this bed. Two summers ago he lost his virginity on it. He clung to these memories to soothe the ache in his chest. They're unsullied and pure - a rare commodity in this questionably dangerous mountain town.

The nightly purge was going to begin soon. He peeked out of his covers from the golden light invading through his window. Butters Stotch's room was directly on the other side across the fence.

Following the path of light, Eric had an unwanted viewing of Butters in the midst of tugging a ski mask over his face. Like Stan and the others, he was going to join in on the vandalism and assault on the town. Heaven help those that didn't have proper protection.

Before his mother turned on the house's security system, he caught a glimpse of Butters watching him across the way just before the metal shutters came down. His psychotic wink before the window clicked in place bothered Eric longer than it should have.

He ignored his mother's call for dinner and forgot to check in with Kyle as the purge commenced.


	4. The Third Night of Hanukkah

Around ten in the morning, Stan threatened Eric at knife-point on his own porch for missing his nightly check-in. Every time Kyle was in a bad mood, his super best friend came running like a mafia hit man about to shake him down. He should have expected it really.

But Stan didn't even give him the chance to explain… or even invite him inside for breakfast.

"Every year, the same shit happens," Stan snarled. "You do your gay ass donation drive and Kyle gets pissed as shit. Are you looking to get yourself gutted and hanged on a light pole?"

Eric shivered at the fate of poor Billy Turner. "Preferably not." He held his palms up in surrender when Stan nearly tried to slash at his neck with the blade. "Stan! Remember your breathing exercises! Breathe in, breathe out - count your sheep…"

"Fuck you! Whatever faggot problems you've got with Kyle, you know better than not checking-in," Stan bared his teeth at him. "What the fuck is wrong with you? I'm tired of Kyle bitching about your fat ass! You better get on your hands and knees and blow him for forgiveness or I swear to god if I miss another purge just to deal with your guys' shit - !"

"Kyle was talking about me?" Eric would literally be on cloud nine if he wasn't fearing for his life right now.

Stan looked ready to vomit at the goofy smile on Eric's face. "Ugh! Fucking gross, dude. Don't smile! Fuck this shit. Just don't miss your check-in or I swear to God you'll find your mother bleeding out on your sofa come morning! Don't test me!"

"Don't you want pancakes?" Eric called out when Stan started backing off. "They're gluten-free!"

Stan's snarl disappeared when he blinked up at him. "Does she still have that homemade jam?"

"It's strawberry this time, but yeah."

"Oh." Stan shrugged and casually pocketed his knife. "Yeah, sure dude." When he walked past him and ventured inside, he called out, "Hey Ms. Cartman! Eric invited me in for pancakes!"

Liane popped her head out from the kitchen with a sweet smile. "Leave your weapons by the door, sweetie! Oh my, it's a good thing I made extra batter!"

When his daily tradition of Stan-mongering ended, Eric got to work seeking further donations at the local mall. He was surprised and relieved to see a man dressed in a Santa Claus outfit ringing a bell for the Salvation Army. Eric didn't hesitate dropping a few bucks into his pail.

"Thanks kid," the man gruffed out.

"No, thank _you_ ," Eric said proudly. "It's good to see someone spreading good will to help out the less fortunate!" His good humor fell when 'Santa' pulled out his 'eggnog' and knocked back the 40oz in one swig.

The man let out a large, disgusting burp. "All fine and dandy, dude, but I'm just doin' this for community service. Probation's a bitch - hey baby!" A woman walking by with a small child flashed them a look of disgust. Santa rolled his hips at her anyways. "Wanna take a ride on Santa's sleigh?"

"Up yours, fucktard," she drawled and flashed him the finger. The little toddler took out her pacifier and spouted out. "Asshole!"

"Marie! What did I tell you about swearing?" she hissed as she steered her precious demon child into the mall. "Save it for your bastard father!"

Santa licked his dirt stained lips and hollered back, "You're on my list, bitch! And your little brat too!"

Eric was regretted giving him what was left of his allowance money.

It was hotter in the mall, so Eric lost his trademark red jacket a half hour in. He wasn't wearing a festive sweater this time, but maybe that was for the best. He tried again asking for donations near popular stores like Macy's and Forever 21, but like his door-to-door stint two days ago, not one person was vaguely interested in helping veterans.

Two hours later, Eric decided to pack things up early to do some last minute Christmas shopping instead. He didn't have a long list of recipients, but it was a lonely blessing in disguise. It just meant he had more to give to charity.

He avoided the busier stores. Many deaths happen in malls during the bargain bin season and he didn't have any weapons on him to defend himself. Kyle and the others gave him a lot of hell about that. He just didn't like hurting people - even at the cost of self-preservation.

Spencer's was surprisingly empty when he walked in. Gag gifts and frat boy items of a sexual variety were slashed by 30% but that was about as much consideration Eric gave to them. He blushed to high heaven remembering how many times Kyle herded him in with the intention of humiliating and corrupting him.

* * *

Two years ago, it had been Kenny's first day on the job in Spencer's and Eric found his choice of shop to be very inappropriate. He just didn't want to be here - it was crude and gross and it made a mockery of lovemaking - because sex should be sacred and beautiful and filled with trust and love…

Kyle called him an idiot. Then he made sure he dragged Eric through the entire store to comment on every single thing, from sexually explicit beer pong sets to Christmas-themed ball gags.

He was this close to bolting if not for the fact that he was spending some time with Kyle in public. They don't usually interact in front of people and when they did, it was usually when Kyle ripped on him.

But here he could feel the flush of Kyle against his side and the absent stroke of fingers on his lower back. It was domestic. It was perfect and wonderful. Eric's eyelids fluttered shut in utter content. He pressed his cheek into Kyle's shoulder while he examined the Hanukkah rack with a critical frown.

"Dreidel buttplugs and menorah dildos, but no SS uniform," Kyle sniffed with disdain. "What kind of shop is this if you're not gonna go full kink?"

"Mmm?" Eric opened his eyes a fraction. "That's not appropriate, Kyle."

"I'm Jewish, fatso. I can decide what's appropriate. And right now I'm insulted."

"You're insulted because you can't be offended?" Kenny scowled over the rack of whips he was stocking up on. "You can file your complaints under _We-Don't-Give-A-Shit_ , Broflovski."

Kyle snorted. "Is that filed before or after 'watersports'?"

"Before of course. Can't you spell? E goes after A."

"Your customer service is shit, Kenny," Kyle snarled. "Keep mouthing off and I'll make you lick my boots like the poor whore you are."

Kenny nearly clipped Kyle on the nose waving a giant pink dildo around. "Bring it, pillow princess!"

Eric eagerly took advantage of the spitfest between the two of them to snuggle against Kyle's arm and inhaled his scent. Maybe he could imagine them at Stark's Pond instead - with candles and the warm spring air…

He stilled when the noise of their conversation came to an abrupt end. Eric looked up and paled from Kyle's narrowed green eyes. Kenny snickered in the background.

"How cuuuuuute!" he jeered. "Is ickle-wickle Eric Cartman snuggling his bae?"

Eric flushed and realized he was squeezing Kyle's arm like some kind of desperate schoolgirl. He sheepishly pulled away after Kyle flashed an annoyed look at Kenny. "Sorry, Kyle. I didn't…"

"You're _apologizing_? Seriously?!" Kyle hissed and, with furious expression, kicked over a rotating rack of Thanksgiving center-penises and stomped deeper into the store. Eric could hear him swear incoherently in Yiddish.

He didn't know what he did wrong. Was Kyle really that angry at him for that? "I didn't mean to!" he whined to Kenny, who could only roll his eyes at the drama. "It's not like anybody saw us, Kyle!" he shouted over the racks. "I promise to pay attention next time!"

"PUTZ!" Kyle had shouted in answer.

"Dude…" Kenny shot him an exasperated sneer. "I know you're weird and innocent and shit, but did you have to replace your intelligence for it?"

They could hear Kyle start knocking more shit over. Kenny swore under his breath at the potential mess, but Eric was too busy growing upset over his fuck up. "What did I do wrong?"

"Pfft, I'm not telling you shit," he grumbled and got to work fixing up the rack. "I'm not your therapist. I just pick up the dildos."

Eric didn't want to remain behind with the intimidating items so it wasn't even an option to quickly find his boyfriend and straighten things out. Kyle had stopped rampaging through the aisles. Eric found him trying to light up a cigarette in a corner between the lube and lingerie shelves. His moments were fidgety and agitated like some kind of caged animal, which made it hard for him to flick at the trigger of his lighter. Kyle was in his paranoid mood now, which usually meant no one should go near him unless they liked being beaten to death.

Despite this, Eric didn't hesitate to gently pry the lighter from his boyfriend's fingers. Kyle watched him warily as Eric clicked the flame to life. After a long beat, the manic gleam in Kyle's eyes settled and he tipped his head forward so the butt of the cigarette could be lit. Eric patiently kept his distance while Kyle took a long drag and took point of his surroundings.

This hadn't been a very good day for either of them. Word had spread throughout the school earlier this week that someone was out to assassinate Kyle. That was why they were helping Kenny settle in his new job. The mall was full of people, but Kyle could keep an eye on anyone going in and out of the store. Strength in numbers was key, but whatever Eric did seemed to be the final nail that undid Kyle's composure.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled, his gaze downwards to the lighter. "I'm not very good at this whole sneaking around. I just like holding you, I guess."

Kyle said nothing. His expression was indecipherable.

"I can't help it, Kyle!" Eric continued under his breath. "But I'll try to do better. Please don't be mad."

Those beautiful green eyes narrowed in disgust. "When the fuck did I ever -" Kyle paused in confusion, then glared at Eric. "Oh fuck you."

"But Kyle…"

"Blow me!" Kyle snapped and shoved Eric hard with his shoulder on his way out. Was that a threat, or…?

Eric threw caution to the wind and grabbed Kyle's wrist hard. Kyle's face contorted from his paranoia again, but Eric was determined to get through to him. Maybe he was the only one that could. There had to be a way to placate him. He didn't want to give up.

"I…" he faltered for a moment, but he screwed down his courage. Anything for Kyle. "Did you want to… um."

"Spit it out, Cartman!"

Eric flushed in embarrassment, but he slid his other hand up Kyle's jacket before deliberately slipping it into the waistband of Kyle's loose jeans. Kyle stiffened, his sharp eyes widening a fraction in disbelief. "Are you serious right now?"

Kyle once told him that if your partner was coherent, you were doing it wrong. With a tiny pout, Eric squeezed Kyle through his briefs and, much to his surprise, Kyle nearly dropped his cigarette holding back a heavy moan. "S-sorry!" Eric said hastily, his fingers retreating. "Did I squeeze too hard - ?"

"Oh fuck, seriously? If you stop, I'll cut your fingers off," Kyle warned and the threat made Eric squeak before he squeezed again. When Kyle bucked into his palm, a thrilling sensation of control overwhelmed him. He didn't know why it was arousing, but the thought of holding Kyle in the palm of his hand - the teen helpless under a simple twitch of fingers - stirred something powerful within Eric.

He squeezed a third time and emboldened, he ran his palm up and down. His mouth started to dry. How shameful doing this in public - in a store no doubt. Kyle's response was enthusiastic, his paranoia completely forgotten. He let out a beautiful sound of groans until he suddenly looked around and snatched Eric hard by the jacket. Kyle ended up hauling him into one of the black curtained dressing rooms in the back of the store.

"Kyle…?" Eric's shoulders seized up in embarrassment when Kyle shoved him head first through the curtain and draped himself on the only seat in the cramped dressing room. He got himself comfortable and splayed his legs out for the larger boy.

"Are you gonna chicken out again?" Kyle asked with a sneer. He gestured between them, flicking cigarette ash all over the place. "You weren't afraid of my dick last night."

Eric swallowed hard at the memory. His body literally tingled and, when he dropped to his knees, he was already light headed. This was dirty. Sinful. But the heavy-lidded stare aimed at his direction was anything but disgusting.

His fingers were shaking and he hadn't even done a single thing yet. But once he flicked the button of Kyle's jeans open and pulled the zipper down, he was trembling so badly he'd be a shoe-in for Parkinson's.

Kyle sighed in disappointment and stopped him with his free hand. "Stop," he said gruffly. "Jesus fucking Christ. Just… just stop."

Eric found himself unable to speak. Despair and disappointment hit him harder than he had ever felt in his life. He didn't want to stop, but he couldn't vocally translate that he wasn't shaking out of fear. Kyle gave him a resigned frown before buttoning up again.

"W-wait…" Eric stuttered. "I can…"

"I know," Kyle said cryptically and Eric tried not to cry when Kyle cupped his face and pulled him up for a surprisingly tender kiss. "Don't worry about it."

His lips were liquid courage. Eric drowned in it, pulled on it for strength. He was sick of playing innocent, but he didn't know how to turn it off and give Kyle what he deserved.

Kyle deserved a better, stronger partner. Someone who could protect him. Someone who wasn't fucking afraid of giving out blow jobs. Eric's blue eyes darkened from the pity party going on inside of him. It wouldn't do. He couldn't imagine Kyle with anyone but else but him.

Eric peeled back the opening of Kyle's jeans and pressed his mouth flush against the bulge in his briefs. There's a sudden inhale from above, but his shoulders relaxed when Kyle twisted his fingers into his hair, gently coaxing him on.

"Easy, dumbass," Kyle grinned, sliding a finger down Eric's cheek. "Take your time…"

"But Kenny…"

"Fuck him. C'mon… that's it." A low sigh left Kyle's throat when Eric opened his mouth more and got used to the heat of it through the cotton, the scent against his tongue. Feeling more courageous, he pulled at the waistband of Kyle's briefs and swallowed hard at the sight.

It wasn't the first time he had seen Kyle's dick and it definitely wasn't the first time he's touched it. But he couldn't help the flush rising up his neck when it sprung free. Eric must have looked at it for too long because Kyle started to pinch at his hairline for attention. He shot back a shaky smile.

"Are you really gonna make that face every time?" Kyle teased, but he quickly fluttered his eyes shut and groaned when Eric experimentally slid his fingers around the shaft and stroked him.

"Hmmm… this face?" Eric flicked his tongue along the head, tasting the bead of pre-cum forming from the tip. He wasn't sure what to make of it aside from the fact that it was a bit salty. "Ngh…"

Kyle popped an eyebrow. "Don't like it?"

"I'm… I dunno," Eric murmured. He could hear customers muffling through the dark fabric. Before he could seize up and come back down to reality, Kyle brushed along his scalp with a wicked smile.

"You should try some more," he whispered huskily before dragging him back down over his lap. "You'll get used to it."

It sounded like a promise. Eric's heart was beating frantically in his chest. Kyle wasn't mad at him anymore. Pleased by this information, Eric continued to run his tongue along the underside, urging on by the slight sounds Kyle made when he slid against a prominent vein there. Instinct slowly overrode his actions and, without a moment for Kyle to breathe, Eric sank his mouth over the tip.

Kyle let out a strangled sound and bucked up into his mouth, inching more of his cock past his lips. He had never heard Kyle make these sounds before. Before he knew it, Eric nearly panicked trying to take the rest of Kyle down and his scalp suddenly seared in pain when Kyle forcefully pulled his hair up.

Eric gagged from the action and coughed hysterically. "K… Ky…"

"I didn't want you to choke…" Kyle was breathless, his eyes completely black from blown pupils. Once Eric stopped coughing, Kyle loosened his grip. "You okay?"

He wiped a bit of saliva from his chin with a determined expression. "I h-had it…"

"What?"

Eric wasn't sure how to explain, so he answered by dropping his head back down to take Kyle's cock down his throat again. Kyle fisted through his hair in warning, but Eric forced his way through the pain to prove himself. He flattened his tongue and inched his way down in one bob until he was nose-deep in dark auburn curls.

"F-FUCK!" Kyle swore and it practically gave them away. At this point Eric was too lost in his victory to care so he started palming himself through his jeans. He had Kyle down his _throat_. Kyle was literally shaking under his hands.

It felt good to be in command.

Kyle was panting like an animal when Eric pulled back up. He didn't gag this time. Pride flickered behind those green eyes. "I should've known… a big boy like you can swallow a cock like that," he chuckled breathlessly and tapped out the cigarette on the wooden bench. "Bet you stuff more shit in your mouth in comparison."

"You shouldn't insult someone who's doing… doing…" Eric flushed hotly.

"Say it," Kyle commanded with a depraved grin. "Say that you're sucking my cock."

Eric pouted and busied himself by stroking him down. It was easier now that his saliva kind of lubricated it. "I'm sucking your…" he swallowed hard. "…cock."

"Good boy," Kyle purred and tugged him back down again. "So fucking cute, _shayn_. Keep going…" He rested his head back against the thin dry wall, his fingers petting through Eric's now messy hair. "Yeah… just like that. Unh… oh fuck there. Again."

The sanctity of the dressing room was ruined by gentle suckling sounds and the low whispers of encouragement from his Jewish boyfriend. Eric's throat was getting sore from the treatment and it didn't help matters when Kyle would occasionally stop the shallow bob of his head to sink him all the way down to the shaft. He learned to relax and count his breathing while Kyle twitched against his tongue. What he was doing was utterly shameless. He was definitely a full-blown sinner now. _Literally._

His plan to give them abstinence rings for Kyle's birthday went down the drain. Jesus might not forgive him this time.

"Faster," Kyle hissed. His thighs tensed under Eric's grip and his cock was throbbing against his teeth. Eric hummed and bobbed his head faster and if it wasn't going to be his throat righteously abused in the next hour, it was definitely going to be his neck. He whimpered as his own cock strained through his pants, but he was too focused on getting Kyle to completion than his own.

Kenny's voice drifted through the curtain. "Hey! You guys fucking in there?! Holy shit, you are!"

Kyle forced Eric's head down before he could even try to pull away. "Don't you stop. Keep going… fuck uhn…!" he warned before raising his voice when the curtain ruffled. "Get the fuck out of here, Kenny!"

"I work here, assmunch!" Kenny tried to pull back the curtain, but Kyle wasn't going to let their friend disturb such a magical moment. With one hand buried in Eric's hair, he drew out his gun from his jacket with the other and let out a warning shot in the air, leaving a bullet hole right through the ceiling of the dressing room.

Eric flinched between Kyle's legs at the loud sound, but the shuffling of fabric finally stopped.

"Okay okay! Fuck! You're gonna get me fired, you ungrateful dipshits!" Kenny's voice muffled until it was out of earshot.

Satisfied, Kyle slid the barrel of his gun across Eric's jaw. "Suck me off, Eric. Or you can suck this one instead."

He didn't need to order him. Eric was far too gone in the haze of sex. He proved it by flicking his tongue along the tip of the gun and watched those green eyes widen in surprise before rolling back in pleasure. Kyle purred in utter content and fisted through his chocolate locks until his mouth was back over his leaking cock. After a few more moments, Kyle's orgasm started to climb and Eric choked and sputtered when Kyle refused to let him up. He braced himself on Kyle's knees and struggled for release before he… before he…

With loud groan, something hot and alien spurted and slid past his tongue while Kyle continued to thrust out his orgasm as deep as he could down his throat. When Kyle's grip lessened and his twitching evened out, Eric pulled away as fast as he could and nearly made the cubicle rock when his back slammed hard against it.

He clutched at his throat and accidentally swallowed almost all of it in the process. Wild blue eyes connected with calm green.

Kyle leaned back with a smug grin. "Did you swallow?" When Eric averted his gaze, he let out a bark of laughter. "Of course you did. You'll eat anything tasty, wouldn't you? Such a good boy."

There was a trail of semen down his chin when Eric looked at the mirror. He blushed hard and tried to scrub it off.

It only made Kyle laugh harder. He gestured him over with two fingers. "Come here, _shayn_."

Eric obediently crawled over and sighed when Kyle pulled him up for a deep, satisfying kiss. Kyle's tongue snaked through, tasting himself in the process, and Eric couldn't help the hoarse moan that left his lips.

"Mmm…" Kyle murmured. "I've never tasted cum before…" He pulled on Eric until he was situated on his lap. "Did you like it?"

"It came from you," Eric murmured shyly. "I like all of you."

"What a shitty answer," Kyle teased and swiped a bit of himself from Eric's lip. "Honestly, I don't really see much appeal with my own stuff." Green eyes flickered down to the bulge still sticking out of Eric's jeans. "Maybe… I need a second opinion."

"O… Oh." Eric could only say meekly before Kyle coyly popped open his poor, neglected trousers.

Kenny didn't get fired for their shenanigans thanks to Kyle's method of negotiation. The gun helped too.

* * *

Inappropriate Christmas music filled the shop, which helped clear out the memory of Kyle's sinful touch. Kenny was in the middle of skimming his phone for porn now that he had WiFi access here. Eric immediately made a beeline for his friend, who was more preoccupied helming the cash register than helping the stragglers pick out anal beads or something.

The sex depraved young man finally looked up from his phone. He blinked at Eric in confusion and then looked over his shoulder for a familiar face. "If you're looking to have sex in the dressing room, you've got like…" he checked his phone. "Five minutes, tops. Manager's out to lunch."

Eric flushed hotly. "I-I-I… c-come on, Kenny. I'm not here t-to…"

Kenny frowned at him. "Well shit, you didn't come in with Kyle? Holy fuck. I thought it was too 'hardcore' for your non-virgin eyes or some shit." He air-quoted 'hardcore' and it only made Eric blush more. "What's up, tubby?"

"I'm not here with Kyle," Eric clarified and tried to ignore the sinking feeling in his stomach saying those very words. "I'm here for you."

Kenny's lips turn into a wolfish smile before he dissolved into a fit of giggles. "Sorry Cartman, you've got that sexy sweet thing going on, but I'm not a chubby-chaser like your boy toy. And I definitely like the placement of my balls, thanks." He added the last sentence as an afterthought. Eric wasn't sure what he meant by that, but he was far too modest to ask.

"I just want to know what you want for Christmas," he said and it was enough to make Kenny's muted blue eyes light up with anticipation. There was a reason why they kept Eric around for so long - he wasn't stingy on gifts - not when it came to his beloved 'friends'.

"I want ninja stars," Kenny replied automatically. He slid his phone away and rubbed at his blond goatee. "Real ones."

Eric didn't want to ask why. Asking for weapons was a normal, practical thing to get for Christmas, but ninja stars? "Are you even capable of using them, Kenny?" he asked, raising an eyebrow in disbelief.

Kenny laughed. "Yeah, don't worry about it. I won't use them on you… maybe." The threat still hung in the air so Eric decided it might be a good idea to take the request to heart.

Before he could even consider leaving, he caught a familiar mess of red curls out the door and directly into the food court. Eric's heart flipped unpleasantly with Kyle's back to him and Heidi Turner clinging on his arm. Kenny watched his falling expression and snorted disdainfully.

"You should shank her ass," he offered viciously. "I wouldn't let some slut hang off my man like that. Don't be a pussy."

But he was. Hurting people just wasn't in his nature. Even if it meant staking claim on his boyfriend. Eric could only stand there like a fool while Kyle shrugged at the Panda Express menu over his head and for some reason it made Heidi laugh and hold him tighter.

"He's not…?" Eric's unable to muster the words.

Thankfully, Kenny knew him well enough. "I dunno," he replied cryptically. "What would you do when your boyfriend's not spending time with you? Not putting out?"

Eric wanted to drop everything and fix this. Because it was always his fault. _His fault._ But when Kyle turned back around to face Spencer's, Eric lost his nerve and disappeared behind a rack of holiday-themed sex toys instead.

Kenny flashed a grin in Kyle's direction and gave him a two-fingered salute. "God, you're so pathetic," he told Eric under his breath. "Oh shit. Kyle's coming in."

He didn't need to be told twice. Heidi's high-pitched giggling replaced the shop's Christmas music and it grated on Eric's ears. He hugged his donation pail hard against his chest. Maybe if he squeezed hard enough, it would still the rapid beating of his heart.

"Welcome to Spencer's," Kenny greeted sarcastically and thumbed at Eric's hiding place. "Wanna browse our festive dildos over there?"

Eric tried not to whine loudly.

"Hey Kenny," Kyle replied dryly. It was like music to Eric's ears. "Are you gonna drop by after work for my party?"

He could hear Kenny laugh loud enough to be unsettling. "Well goddamn, Jew! I just went to the last two ones! You really gonna have a party the entire week or something?"

"Something like that," he drawled. "My parents are throwing it. It's a fucking snooze-fest without someone to entertain me." Eric could hear Heidi practically coo in agreement at his words. She was probably draped all over him like a human pelt. An unfamiliar spark of something foul ignited in his stomach.

"Why don't you invite Cartman?"

Kenny's question brought an uncomfortable silence. Eric wished he could bury his head in the sand and never come back out. But he couldn't help but peer conspicuously around the rack when Kenny suddenly shouted in anger. Kyle had shoved Kenny back hard in order to peer over the counter.

"He's here, isn't he?" Kyle growled and it made both Heidi and Eric's knees weak. "Stop fucking hiding and face me like a man, fatass!"

Eric whimpered, unable to ignore his lover's summons. He was about to retreat in shame from the rack of dildos, but was stopped by Heidi's comment.

"Eric Cartman? Why would you invite him?"

"You as dumb as a box of rocks, Heidi," Kenny slurred out. "Who do you think your mancandy here has been been banging the past five years?" Eric suppressed the urge to correct him. They just started having sex two years ago. Even now the thought still made him blush like a goddamn school girl.

Kyle said nothing when Heidi swiveled her head in question. Eric wasn't sure if that was a good sign or not. "But why…?" she demanded, utterly confused. "He's fat and ugly as fuck! Totally beta!" This got Kenny bawling in laughter.

"If I wanted your opinion on who I choose to fuck, I'd put a ring on your finger wouldn't I?" Kyle snapped and she cowered under his words. Eric's heart fluttered.

"May I suggest bulking up to get Kyle's dick jumping?" Kenny eyed her considerably. "Then again, you look halfway there, so…"

"Fuck you, slut!" she shrieked, covering her bosom and little else.

Kenny leaned forward on the counter. His sly grin revealed sharp incisors. "Wow, it must really be Christmas 'round the corner. I usually have to pay first for that kind of comment."

"McCormick!" Kyle interrupts shortly.

Kenny sighed and shrugged helplessly. "Cartman isn't here, dude. But he _was_ earlier. He's been bitching for donations again from the shoppers here all day."

Eric was unable to see Kyle shake his head from this angle. "Goddammit. That big dumb bastard just won't let up this year, will he?"

"This _is_ Cartman we're talking about," Kenny said seriously. "Did you really think he's going to stop his stupid ass charities just because his hot piece on the side ordered him to?"

"If he was smart, he would," Kyle growled and that gnarled feeling in Eric's gut started festering outwards. He wished they understood why he did this every year.

A familiar whine of a siren followed by a flashing red light bathes the entire mall. It's been going on almost like clockwork the entire afternoon, but that was par on course for the holidays. Either someone tried to steal something or there was a murder.

Judging by how excited people were running in one direction, Eric's stomach twisted uncomfortably. It was murder this time.

A pair of familiar sneakers skidded near the glass doors "Hey fellas!" There was bloodlust in Butters' eyes when he greeted them. "They got a real fat fucker this time! They'll need like five janitors to clean up all that blood!"

Kyle paled and immediately bolted out the door, shoving Butters hard onto his ass on his way out. Heidi quickly followed like sheep to his shepherd and they ended up leaving their packages on the floor.

Once the coast was clear, Eric retreated out from the dildos to keep Kenny's eyes from wandering to the abandoned shopping bags. Kyle's green hat disappeared into the sea of spectators, leaving Eric confused and bewildered. Had Kyle not satiated his thirst for violence the last few days?

When he asked Kenny, the young man could only frown at him incredulously. "God you're so fucking retarded. Now buy something or get the fuck out."

And that was that.


	5. The Fourth Night of Hanukkah

It was the fourth morning of Hanukkah, so Eric's mother was much more strict about his curfew. Emotions were heightened the closer it got to Christmas and with her baby practicing non-violence, she couldn't afford the chance of losing him this year. The door and windows to his room were dead bolted and barred at eight-thirty until seven. It was state of the art and seemingly foolproof. Well, the last model claimed it to be.

Not only did Kyle hack into the system, but he had even turned it against them. That was how Liane discovered that her precious child was romantically entangled with the hellion of South Park. Unlike Kyle's parents, she had been absolutely ecstatic. If there was anyone who could guarantee Eric's safety, it was going to be Kyle - and as a blessing to their 'relationship', she allowed him full access into their security suite to tinker and improve upon as he wished.

Kyle said he was only doing it for the sake of insurance. As far as he was concerned, Eric was now officially his property and no one was going to fuck around with his possessions.

Only Kyle knew how to circumvent their home security and he took advantage of that to sneak into Eric's room constantly in the middle of the night. Sometimes he arrived to just fool around in the late night hours and other times it was worse - his paranoia would drive him to tear up Eric's room for listening bugs and potential assassins. It would take Eric all night just to calm him down when that happened.

He had thought these were one of these nights. Around 3AM, he thought he heard the deadbolt open in his room, but when he stirred awake long enough to investigate he found nothing amiss. Maybe Kyle had been there, or maybe not. The fact remained that he was alive, so it wasn't much of a consequence. Still, it took him another hour to fall back asleep.

It just felt like someone was watching him. Always watching.

* * *

Eric was only eight years old and slumbering peacefully in his bed when he suddenly felt the bed shift. Thinking it was his mother doing her nightly check-ins, Eric smiled in his sleep and snuggled into her warm, _flat_ chest.

She felt smaller too. And she smelled like dirt and the kind of incense he would smell when he visited Kyle's house. It lulled him even deeper into unconsciousness and he let out a soft contented moan before nestling further against his mother. "Mama…"

A hand slapped over his mouth so hard, his eyes shot open. Before he could even flinch, small but determined fingers pinched hard into his cheeks, leaving little for him to do but let out a muffled cry as the bed bounced and jostled from the intruder's movements. His pupils adjusted to the darkness while he struggled for freedom, but the intruder had sunk bony knees deep into his sides. Any sudden movement only brought pain and discomfort until Eric was forced to give up.

His heart thumped loudly in fear, but he finally took in the green ushanka and wild red curls that belonged to his 'friend'. "Mfkylemf?" he muffled into his palm.

Kyle's green eyes were wide and panicked and his expression was twisted in a madness Eric had never seen before. It scared him.

"I did it…" Kyle said breathlessly. "I killed someone." He tapered into a disjointed chuckle. "I hid the body, Eric. I did it all by myself!" To Eric's horror, Kyle started laughing. He laughed so loud he was sure his mother would have heard it, but for some reason she wasn't responding. A sinking feeling pooled in his gut. He started to tear up and maybe that was the reason Kyle pulled his hand away.

"Did you hurt my mem?"

"What? No." Kyle looked at him like he was a retard. "Your mom's passed out on the couch. That's how I sneaked past her."

Eric let out a shuddering sigh of relief before rubbing at his eyes. He didn't know what would happen to him if his mom was killed. Vengeance was the last thing on his mind, but then it occurred to him what Kyle said. He had _killed_ someone. He hid the body. He was the first one in their age group to actually take a life.

Everyone would have been proud of Kyle, but Eric? It horrified him. Even worse, Kyle looked like he was on the verge of falling off of a cliff or pushing someone over one. Eric chose his next words carefully. "Are you okay, Kyle?"

"Okay?!" he exclaimed with a mad grin. "It's great, dude! Stan thought he was going to be the first one, but I showed him! I showed all of them that this fucking Jew can do it!"

He didn't sound very convincing.

"Who did you kill?" Eric said softly.

For some reason, Kyle flinched at him and swallowing hard, he averted that triumphant gaze. "Ms. Stevenson."

"The kindergarten teacher?!"

Kyle's grin twisted into a sneer. "She was fooling around with Ike. So I pretended to be him and told her to meet me at Stark's Pond tonight." He looked at his palms like he didn't even believe his own story. "It was just so… easy. Mom was right. One stab to the throat. They go down so fast that way. I couldn't stop. I thought about what she did and just kept going and going. There was blood everywhere."

He thought he was going to be sick. His stomach flipped unpleasantly and he had to cover his own mouth in fear of vomiting. Sure Kyle and the others talked and boasted about who they were going to kill one day, but it never seemed to happen. Eric had hoped - _prayed_ \- that it was just empty words.

Against the moonlight, Kyle's bright orange jacket had splotches of blood. Her blood.

Eric swallowed hard. "Why'd you come here?" he whimpered. Kyle was telling him everything, confessing his sins to the only saintly child in South Park. Why?

Kyle was silent. He didn't seem to be expecting the question. "I dunno…" he admitted quietly. "I just wanted to tell you." It was Kyle's turn to look unsettled and insecure. He folded his arms and started to shake. "I didn't do it for kicks," he convinced more to himself than to his bed companion. "She was a bad person. Like fucking evil. You don't do that to kids, dude! She got what was coming to her. She shouldn't have touched Ike. It was my right. I'm glad she's dead. I'm glad…"

"You don't look so glad," Eric boldly reached out and held Kyle's trembling fingers. "I'm sorry, Kyle."

"The fuck are you sorry for?" Kyle snapped, the words catching in his throat. "I should get a f-fucking cake! It was my first kill! It's never going to be the same, Cartman! I can't sleep the same way anymore! I've done my rite of passage! I'm a man!"

Eric patiently listened until somewhere along his ramblings, Kyle started to cry. Truly cry. His heart ached for a broken friend,and Eric pulled Kyle by the hands.

"You should take off your jacket," he whispered gently. "I don't think it'll be comfortable sleeping in it." To his surprise, Kyle shrugged off his jacket without another word and let it slip to the floor. While he kicked off his shoes, Eric reached forward and wiped the tears slipping down Kyle's cheeks, smiling all the while like it was no big deal.

Because if he stopped smiling, he might cry too. Kyle lost something tonight and it was hurting him. And they were too young to figure out what that was.

Kyle slipped into the covers and absently played with the top button of Eric's pajamas. "God your pajamas are so gay," he mumbled half-heartedly.

"Sharks aren't gay," Eric whined into his pillow. When he turned his head, Kyle was just staring at him. They held their little stare off for quite a long time as if saying something would make things awkward. He had never invited the guys over for a sleepover before because his mother expressly forbade it. She just wasn't sure if she was going to wake up one day to find Eric's throat slit open just for fun. "Do you want to cuddle?"

"Dude," Kyle's nose wrinkled. "Seriously?"

"My mem cuddles me when I feel bad," he pouted. "Did you know humans can't survive without physical comfort? I'm just throwing out suggestions here, Kahl."

"Pfft. You just want me to hug you because you're gay for me." The corner of Kyle's lips quirked into a smirk.

Eric couldn't stop his blush fast enough when he quickly shook his head. "N-no!"

"Wait until I tell the guys." Those green eyes started to glitter with life again. "I'm gonna tell them all about how you tried to feel me up while I slept."

"I did not!" Eric whined. "And… and if you tell them, they'll know you were in my room um, so… so you can't because of your reputation!"

Kyle's expression completely changed. He was smiling - genuinely smiling - and he looked so tickled by his response, Eric couldn't help but blush even more. "Holy shit, Cartman," he breathed. "You _are_ capable of blackmail."

Before Eric could protest, Kyle wiggled forward and wrapped his arms around his thick middle, pulling him close into an actual hug. He stiffened and for some reason, his heart was pounding so fast, he thought he was having a heart attack. "K-Kahl…?"

"If you tell anyone about this, I'll kill you," Kyle's hot breath burned into the collar of his pajamas. "You know I can now. It's not an empty threat."

"D-duly noted," Eric gasped when Kyle affectionately squeezed. Unsure of reciprocating, he let his arms hang awkwardly until Kyle called him out for being a shitty cuddler. Taking it as permission, Eric slid his arms around Kyle's cold shoulders and even hummed the way his mother would do to settle him down. He could feel Kyle's disbelieving exhale against his neck, but he continued with it anyways. It didn't take long until Kyle's grip grew relaxed and eventually, the red head dozed off under Eric's off-key lullaby.

And maybe, just maybe, that was how all of this had started. Eric said nothing about what transpired after that - how Kyle had broken down and curled next to the wimpiest kid in South Park and found comfort there for the first time in his life. Kyle never mentioned it either.

But everyday afterwards there was this ease between them. Kyle started to sit much more frequently by Eric's side at lunch more than usual. Sometimes their legs would even bump under the table with no one even noticing.

Something _gave_ that night. For better and for worse.

* * *

When he woke up hours later, he heard his mother's shotgun cock before the dead bolt clicked open on the other side of his door. "Mornin' mem…" he yawned in lazy content.

"Morning sweetie," his mother answered cheerfully and he heard her footsteps echo down the stairs to make breakfast.

He was awake before his alarm, but he neglected it to check on his phone for any messages from Kyle.

There were none. It left Eric aching and empty. He then decided to lay on his bed in a lonely stupor until his alarm finally rang and his iDock moved into shuffle mode to play _Carol of the Bells_. The Trans-Siberian Orchestra version was Kyle's favorite and one of the few festive Christmas songs he was able to leave on without him complaining.

How long has it been since Kyle's touched him, he wondered bitterly. He flopped back into bed and closed his eyes, letting the haunting drum beat follow the cadence of his imagination of Kyle all over him like a suffocation.

His thoughts drifted to the last time they were together. It was back in November, and around that time Kyle always returned exhausted from a round of his semi-annual shots. No one would expect him to recuperate in Eric's house - let alone his bed - and Eric's room was practically Kyle's sanctuary.

The sex was lazy and slow through the day, but Eric loved it this way. There was no urgency or mad dash to the end and his senses were heightened and extended with nothing to focus on but Kyle. And when Kyle sank his teeth into the plump flesh of his inner thigh, Eric ended up a righteous mess of moans and sighs.

His thighs rubbed together at the memory and his breath stilled. Eric gazed upward at the ceiling, lost as he was in phantom lovers and the way Kyle would lick and kiss his skin with reverence. Those were the moments where Eric believed he was truly loved. There were no words - only actions - and that was more than enough.

" _Come here~"_ Kyle's voice dripped like honey and Eric instantly obeyed. He sat up on his pillows and imagined Kyle's hand dip down his stomach, but stopped.

Even in his _fantasies_ , Kyle was such a damned tease. Eric bit into his bottom lip with mild frustration.

" _Be a good boy…"_ Kyle whispered into his skin. " _Touch yourself for me."_

He was hesitant and wary when he slipped his hand into the waistband of his flannel pajamas. There was no rhyme or reason jacking it as Kenny would always say - but at this point he was desperate and wanting for the boy who had been avoiding his texts and calls.

All he wanted was Kyle. "Oh…" Eric uttered the moment he squeezed around the base just the way Kyle would do it. He felt his dick stir with a twitch until he was half-hard and shaking. It was embarrassing to play like this on his own and he didn't get why the guys treated this American pastime like a gift from God.

It just wasn't the same without having the real thing to guide him - to stoke his embers in a way even Eric couldn't master with himself.

He spent a minute or so trying to mimic the sharp rough movements of Kyle's palm. It was hit or miss because he simply couldn't comprehend or imitate the savagery and primal lust Kyle was capable of. Eric was much too gentle and conscious of himself to do it.

The music was reaching its climax, but Eric found himself unable to follow its beat. He got himself hard enough that he was panting and squirming with arousal, but it felt like an eternity to follow through. A minute trickled by before he was finally lost in the memory of Kyle's lips and the slide of his palms.

"Uhn… Ky-Kyle…" he moaned. The sounds he was making was soon delirious with desire. "I want…"

But what he wanted was selfish. He couldn't even voice it aloud in the safety of his own room. Saying it would invalidate all the hard work he had done so far for the good of humankind. It would only justify Kyle's hate speech of every man for themselves and Eric just _couldn't_.

He had to fight every step of the way to keep Kyle from being correct. It was the only true resistance he had against his Jewish lover. Otherwise he was one step away from putting on a leather collar and sitting with content by Kyle's feet. Eric thought he had more dignity than that. He wouldn't end up like the others who lapped at his greatness like the dogs they were.

Eric's eyes snapped open from the haze of lust. _Dogs?_ When did he ever call people that in such a cruel way?

 _Carol of the Bells_ long since ended along with the spell of Kyle's ghostly touch. Eric was left dissatisfied and frustrated by the time the next song came on. Glee's version of _Jingle Bell Rock_ started to play and it would have made Kyle stop and chuck Eric's iDock into the nearest wall. The mood was effectively lost.

Eric decided to just give up and take a cold shower instead of following through. He was such a pussy he couldn't even get _himself_ off.

Christmas music from his iDock was loud enough to carry into his bathroom. Eric let the music occupy his thoughts while he quickly showered and checked the state of his stubble in the mirror. His facial hair hadn't been quite the same since his counterpart in the other, _nicer_ universe tore it off when he was eight, so he gave up and just shaved it all away.

He liked to think it was a part of Kyle's appeal for him. A few months before Kyle demanded that they become an item, he had called him fatass less and _shayn_ more. Eric still didn't know what motivated Kyle. He always spoke of having an equal by his side, but Eric was far from equal. If anything, they were complete opposites.

Insecurity was unproductive, so Eric ignored that niggling familiar feeling and gave up on his growing stubble. He started shaving again just so he didn't look like a hobo for the telethon tonight.

"Eric, sweetie!" His mother's cut loudly through the music. "There's a guest waiting at the front door for you!"

Eric abandoned his aftershave and quickly threw on some clothes. He prayed to God that it was Kyle downstairs. It had to be. He 'looted' his shopping bags yesterday before Kenny could.

But when he ran downstairs, he only found Kyle's little brother suspiciously standing on his porch. The boy's fingers occasionally twitched over the holster under his jacket, but Eric wasn't surprised. Kyle had told him Ike's classmates weren't very accommodating to foreigners like Canadians.

Then again, Canadians were the bloodthirsty hell-spawn of the north. Some of that anger, Eric had to admit, was wholly justified.

"Hey Ike," Eric greeted with a friendly grin. "Are you here to pick up Kyle's bags?"

Ike sneered in answer. He didn't like idle chit-chat and that was just fine with him. Eric quickly fished out the bags from the coat closet. Ike didn't check the merchandise because it's _Eric_ and the thought of him stealing was probably funny.

Eric couldn't help but call out before Ike stomped away. "Ike? Can you…" His voice failed him again. He wanted to give Kyle a message, but he was too scared of rejection again.

With a roll of his eyes, Ike turned around. The cardboard bags make an unpleasant crunching sound. "Let me guess. _You're sorry and you love him._ Is that what you want him to know?"

Was it that obvious? Eric looked down at his carpet. "Yes."

"He knows this," Ike said dismissively before waltzing down the yard. "He doesn't care."

The twelve year old makes off with the bags and a little extra something Eric slipped in, but he had a sinking feeling it'll just end up in the trash.

* * *

The telethon went without a hitch, but no one tuned in. It was like he was talking to the air holding the mic and facing the unmanned camera like this. He was in a nicely pressed navy suit and his light brown hair was perfectly styled back. It was every bit as professional as he could get and he was proud of himself for it.

He invited a large group of homeless veterans for food and entertainment, but the event fell flat when one of them held the party at gunpoint and made off with his mother's peach cobbler, one vet's camo pants, and three bucks painstakingly put together from the target pot.

After witnessing the hotel staff chase off the vets with firearms and mops, Eric learned a valuable lesson never to invite guests to his telethon anymore. Kenny drunk called him around midnight to tell him on the air that Kyle and Stan laughed their asses off when it happened. Eric then hung up on him when he started making requests for certain pornographic movies.

Despite the first shaky night, Eric couldn't stop smiling throughout the rest of the telethon. Kyle had actually _watched_ his charity drive. Things were beginning to look up.


	6. The Fifth Night of Hanukkah

_"And now Jim Brown-ish for the annual Christmas report. Jim?"_

The only surviving news reporter left from last week's Black Friday Massacre had his back to the camera. Eric leaned forward on his couch with a pensive frown when Jim finished spraying the parking lot with bullets and then turned back around to fix his tie.

 _"Thanks, Tom! It's looking to be quite the bloodbath this holiday season. Perhaps the deadliest in the past four years! Behind me is the local mall and as you can see Tom, they're already pulling bodies off the parking lot."_

Over Jim's shoulder, the camera eagerly zoomed in at the gruesome sight. Looting was spreading from night to midday as people clamored for material possessions without care for the lives of their fellow man. Some of the bodies he recognized from _school_ , but none of them he was really close to.

Eric sighed and picked up the remote to change the channel. He didn't want to see anymore tragedy.

His mother suddenly snatched the remote from his hand and waved it at him. "Eric, sweetie. Mommy needs to see the purge forecast so she can decide whether or not to use an extra generator for the security system."

"Oh." He squeezed at his knees. "Mem, do you ever wonder if life would be better without the purges?"

Liane offered him a very unsettling blink. "Of course not, sweetie. Why, just yesterday that awful woman who pointed out my grey hairs at the salon got what was coming to her last night. I didn't have to lift a finger and scalp her. I think the purges are just lovely."

"But… what if it wasn't that lady that died last night?" he encouraged softly. "What if it was… what if it was _me_ that died?"

The living room settled into an uneasy silence. The milky blue eyes she shared with her son suddenly clouded over with an unreadable expression, but it flashed by so quickly, Eric thought he imagined it. Her smile returned.

"Maybe I should move the curfew to six then." She rubbed nervously at her hands and tried to spin back towards the kitchen. "Yes, I think I'll do that."

Eric stood up. "Mom!" he whined. "You always do this! What if I died? Do you think the purges are good after that? Why can't we talk abo-"

She whirled upon him so fast, he ended up tipping back onto the cushions. "You will be just fine, Eric!" Liane stressed out. "Mommy won't let anything happen to you! Mommy's very good with a shotgun! ISN'T MOMMY GOOD WITH A SHOTGUN?!"

"Y-yes! Jesus!" he stuttered back with a cringe. "Holy crap, mom!"

But she wasn't done. He flinched back when she snatched up his chubby cheeks and started to stretch them out. "My baby… so innocent. Too pure for this world… what have I done to deserve this…?"

Eric pouted - or tried to. She kept pulling at his cheeks like taffy. "Mforget I saith anythin' mem…" he managed to say. "Takth yer medicithne!"

"Oh, alright." It was like someone turned a light on in her head. She let go of him and cheerfully headed for the kitchen. "Oh and sweetie? I haven't seen Kyle in awhile. Are you two fighting? Now, I know how much you prefer the romantic part of a relationship, but you have to be reasonable sometimes. It's the sex, isn't it? Are you not putting out enough, honeykins?"

"Mem! N-no!" Eric blushed hotly. "We're just… busy. He has his parties and I have my charity drives. That's all."

She pursed her lips. "Well, if you're sure. But bring him home at least once this season, alright? If Kyle is here watching you, then mommy could take a break and get you more Christmas presents."

"That's not necessary, mem," he smiled fondly at her. "All I need is you for Christmas."

"Too much idealism is bad for your tummy, pumpkin." She paled at the television screen when they announced that the purge indicator would be hitting the red tonight. "Oh my. Looks like you're grounded for today, sweetums. You won't be able to walk the streets without at least a baseball bat!"

Eric groaned. This was going to be another one of those days where she locked him up in his room.

And she did. He had nothing but his phone and video games to keep him company until the red alert went back down to at least orange. The telethon was still a go for the second night, but his mother suggested that she chaperone after what happened last night. Eric can't really complain - not when his mother had the shotgun.

Kyle and the others must have realized what was going on because when Eric booted up his computer to play some mindless Warcraft, the others were already on. Touched by their appearance, he let them send him to the graveyard multiple times in a round of PvP while they chatted and complained about overpowered abilities on Teamspeak.

When they got bored with that, they played a few dungeons to avoid all the Christmas-y schtick that happened in the main cities. Eric didn't want to embarrass Kyle and talk about the state of their relationship while Stan and Kenny were listening in, so he was simply content letting his lover's voice carry in his headset while he discussed strategy. It was pathetic, but it made him believe he was here right beside him.

It was sunset by the time Eric heard Sharon shout at Stan for dinner so they started closing down the game. Stan and Kenny quickly logged off their headsets, but Eric tried to catch Kyle before he left as well. "Kyle?"

There was a pause.

 _/What?/_ The word was dry and flat. He had happily killed Eric's character in so many gruesome ways, but he still sounded miffed.

Eric couldn't help but say, "I love you." He was both glad and sad he couldn't see Kyle's response.

Kyle deflected as usual. _/Are you going to do your shitty telethon again?/_

"Well I have to," he admitted softly into the mic. "I paid for a week's worth of airtime. It's not refundable." Kyle was a financially-cautious Jew and all. He banked on that reasoning in the hope Kyle would understand. So his response seriously surprised Eric.

 _/If I pay back the rest of the week, will you just fucking stop?/_

"Why are you so against my charity drives?" Eric demanded so desperately, it was almost mistaken for anger. He was surprised by the way his voice carried loud and strong. "Why does it have to be so embarrassing for you to have a boyfriend that actually cares about someone other than himself?"

He was afraid that Kyle might log out in anger. He wished he did when Kyle found his voice to respond.

It wasn't pretty.

 _/You really don't get it./_ He snarled into Eric's headphones. _/You're so far up your own asshole that your argument fucking falls on its face. You're so busy caring about random strangers that you don't even think about what you're missing here! Well, I'm not going to sit around and encourage this kind of behavior from you! Do you seriously love me, Cartman?/_

"Yes!" Eric cried out and nearly broke his keyboard in the process. "I do, I seriously do, Kyle!"

 _/Then fuck off the charity drive and come_ here _!/_ he hissed. _/Spend the actual fucking winter break with me! Grow some fucking balls, Cartman! Prove to this entire fucking town that you're mine!/_

He wasn't sure what happened next. One moment he was at the point of tears and the next the coiled ball of nastiness in his gut suddenly popped like an angry cyst.

"FUCK YOU, KAHL!" Eric screamed. "I DON'T NEED TO TAKE SHIT FROM A GUY WHO DATES BITCHES BEHIND MY BACK!"

Somehow, he ended up tearing the headphones straight from the jack, causing his computer tower to literally fall off his desk with a loud sickening smack on the carpet. The jarring sound snapped Eric's seething rage clean in half. Horrified by what he had done, scrambled to salvage the tower.

He… he _cursed_. He shouted down Kyle who was known to brutally gut people for less offenses. The thought made him sick and aroused at the same time. What the heck was wrong with him?

Fearing for his life, Eric pounded on his locked door and begged his mother to let him into the bathroom. Before she could even ask what was wrong, Eric dove past her and made a beeline straight for the shower. Maybe he could 'clean' away his negativity and the world would right itself again.

But no matter how hard he tried to physically scrub away the malevolence of his thoughts, it only seemed to fester and grow the more he thought about Kyle.

"What's wrong with me?" he whimpered brokenly at the pristine blue tiling. "What the hell did I just do?"

Kyle was going to find him and murder him. Eric had to think about ways to escape - hell, _defend_ himself. All of these scenarios just ran through his head. He imagined Kyle trying to kick down the door to the bathroom and come at him in the shower with his switchblade.

He'd do it too. Kyle would tear the curtains off to get to him and slip into the shower with disregard. Steam would curl in his hair and stick out. That sickening snarl would pull back those perfect teeth when he grabbed for Eric, who could do nothing but cower in the corner.

The thought of Kyle sliding his knife down Eric's nude body was enough to make him hard and leaking. He ended up fisting his cock to literally uncoil the frustration and anger churning in his stomach and he started panting like he was in heat. It was strange and horrifying, but he couldn't to concentrate on why when all the blood in his brain migrated straight to his dick.

He wouldn't be able to move. Not with Kyle wielding his blade. He had to be as still as death else that sharp point suddenly shifted and actually cut him deep.

 _"Turn your disobedient ass around,"_ Kyle would growl. _"Or I'll do it for you. But you won't like it. And it won't be my dick in your ass."_

Eric whimpered at the threat and he dutifully turned around. Even his fantasy of Kyle was downright cruel. He could feel the tip of Kyle's blade tease down his back, hard enough that it would leave a red mark but not enough to break the skin. It stopped at the base of his lower back, making Eric shiver.

He was literally throbbing to the point of rutting against the wall for release. Nonsensical words left his throat and he doesn't know what he's saying. It just felt so… good.

 _"Touch yourself,"_ Kyle commanded. He pressed the blade deeper into his lower back when Eric reached for his straining cock. _"Not there. You know better than that."_

Eric's breath stuttered. "Ah… Kyle I can't…"

 _You don't have a choice."_ The knife slid lower. Eric could feel it brush alongside his ass. _"Or maybe you do."_

"N-no!" he gasped and squirmed under the knife. He had never touched himself down there before. It was too daunting, too strange. Only Kyle's ever stuck his fingers inside of him - opened him up for actual penetration.

But with a knife at his back, he had little choice. Eric trembled and pressed a finger against his entrance before Kyle grew impatient and did it for him with the knife.

It was difficult. He didn't have lube and they learned the hard way that water wasn't much of a good substitute. Eric bit his lip and pushed deeper until it gave. He tried to relax, but it had been so long since he'd been penetrated. It was tight. Ungodly _tight._

Eric sighed into the steam and dropped his forehead against the cool tile. When was the last time he and Kyle had sex? Weeks ago?

 _"Another,"_ Kyle purred against the back of his neck. Eric whimpered again, but obliged, his back stiffening as he eased another finger in. It felt so weird, but he tried to at least find some way to ease the pressure. He tried stretching himself out first before adding a third finger, hoping to find his prostate that Kyle had no problem reaching.

 _"It's been awhile hasn't it?"_ Kyle mused bitterly. _"Since you've been fucked? Didn't you enjoy it, Cartman? Don't you miss me inside you?"_

"Yeah…" he hissed. The second he curved his fingers, he gasped and saw stars. His hips shot forward, the discomfort melting away as he brushed against his prostate. Without even a command, he quickly added the third and slowly thrust in deep. He shuddered again from a particularly violent shift of his fingers, but he couldn't find that even pace.

Every other thrust was disjointed and intense. Lost in the familiar sensation of being fucked, Eric grabbed his dick with his other hand and stroked in time to his thrusts. His short grunts turned into a heavy whine for more. He wanted more than his fingers. He wanted to be mercilessly fucked until he was sobbing for it to stop. Sex was his haven, the only place where he could vocalize what he wanted so deep within him, it would have never surfaced anywhere else in his life.

Kyle brought that out of him. It was _Kyle_ who was unraveling the demon inside of him. He can hear Kyle's deprecating laugh in his ears, the slick of his tongue against his shoulder that couldn't be human. No human would be this depraved.

Eric wanted to go down to the Broflovski residence with a bat and smash every expensive item he could find. He wanted to attract the blood of wasted greed all over the living room so Kyle can take a whiff of it and come at him. He wanted to bruise and bite every inch of the Jew so everyone would finally figure out who the fuck owned who.

He wanted Kyle to mount him and fuck him until he couldn't remember his name.

Not even the fear of retribution and death could slake or soften the straining cock in his hands. Eric finished so hard and fast against the shower wall it left him dizzy and exhausted. Kyle wasn't here. He had never been here.

The scalding hot water eventually ran cold, but he was so satiated and relaxed he wouldn't even care if armed gingers suddenly arrived to lob his head off.

Something was changing within him. He wanted to make his claim. But post-coital regret and humiliation finally kicked in when he grabbed a towel. All desire to intrude into Kyle's house like an alpha went unfulfilled.

* * *

Eric had an hour left before his mother drove him to the Airport Hilton. It was the second night of the telethon, but this time he came prepared; no homeless vets and no surprises else the staff would happily chuck him into the broiler. He didn't check his phone out of pure fear… and perhaps annoyance. He was this close to losing it if he found the multiple missed calls and texts from Kyle.

If this was going to be his last night, he wanted to do it properly. He was going to continue the charity drive even if it killed him.

Invitations were sent out weeks ago, but like usual, no one arrived to partake in the telethon. The target pot in the center of the stage still said $250 out of $5000 and every single penny of that came from his own savings.

He tried to hold back his anger in front of the camera, but he couldn't help but plea to the non-existent audience to donate. "Literally one dollar can help give a veteran a meal!" he implored to the camera. "Like… it's a single cheeseburger at McDonalds, guys! Seriously!"

Kenny prank called him during the live segment to make fun of his weight but didn't donate. It was seriously starting to piss him off.

"I'm just trying to help the unfortunate!" he suddenly exploded in front of the camera. "It's the holidays! Doesn't anyone believe in good will anymore?!"

The phones ring again, but it was all in Kenny's number. Eric dropped his mic in defeat and cut the telethon a half hour short. It gave him extra time to sit on the stage and just cry at how shitty the world was before his mother returned from the lobby and escort him to the truck.

In the meantime, he was sure Kyle's party was in full force. And Heidi and Rebecca and whoever caught Kyle's eye tonight were spending the evening holding him and lighting the menorah. Eric wanted to be there right now instead of listening to his mom prattle on about all the presents she had for him under the tree.

Eric didn't want presents. He wanted his charity drive to succeed. He wanted to celebrate Hanukkah with Kyle. But he couldn't have both and it pained him more than he ever thought possible.

Maybe Kyle was right. No one cared. The vets probably didn't even care. Why waste time on a fruitless endeavor when he could enjoy the holidays the way he wanted to? Now Kyle was probably livid with him. He was probably planning to break up with him or kill him. And all Eric had to show for this mess was a failed charity drive and loneliness.

All he had left was his kindness and good will. If he gave it up now, what would become of him? This very town?

The coveted number one spot on _America's Most Unfriendly Towns_ list, most likely.


	7. The Sixth Night of Hanukkah

When Liane turned off the security system the following morning, Butters invaded the house. He knew better than to loot or murder anyone inside and, in his own twisted way, he seemed fond of Eric enough to not maim him whenever he visited.

Eric pulled out of his sleepy stupor when he entered the kitchen and found Butters and Liane locked in some kind of standoff. In a casual swagger, Butters was leaning on the backdoor like Liane wasn't just aiming the barrel end of her shotgun at his face.

"Mornin' fellas," Butters purred. "It would be awfully swell if you could help me with something."

"Don't do it, mom!" Eric cried out. "Just go away, Butters! Whatever you're scheming, we don't want any part of it! Seriously!"

Butters scoffed and popped the heel of his shoe against the door frame. "Aw shucks, Eric. You didn't even hear my proposition! I've got…" He sneered and glanced at his phone. "A few hours to make a dozen cookies for my girlfriend and your mom makes the best shit. Help me out, it's Christmas!"

Liane lowered her shotgun a fraction. "Just cookies?"

"I promise to flag your house for Christmas Eve," Butters offered with a disarmed smile. "No one's gonna raid it for presents this year. Scout's honor."

She faltered easily under his sickeningly sweet smile - baking was an easy way into her wary heart - and soon they started gushing over what kind of cookies to make like they didn't just have a tense stand off a minute ago.

He didn't want to leave his vulnerable mother in their bloodthirsty neighbor's vicinity, so Eric abandoned his plans going door-to-door in North Park to help with the baking.

"I need something Canadian," Butters said eagerly while Liane opened up the overflowing pantry. "She's a special one. It's gotta be so delicious she'll want to haul her pretty keester down here. Then I can chain her up in my basement so she can't leave."

Eric blinked. "Canadian?"

Like Kyle's adopted brother, Canadians were vicious, unfriendly people and they hated Americans with the passion of a thousand suns. How fucking typical that Butters would get a girlfriend up there.

He shook his head. Swear words? _Really?_ Eric huffed and chastised himself for the mental swearing.

Liane offered the switch to maple cookies and Eric kept his mouth shut about lecturing them about cultural sensitivity. Instead he went back to working the mixer before Butters killed him for being useless. While it was going, his thoughts drifted to the present he hid in Kyle's bag, but he was too afraid to check his phone and find Kyle's response.

Speaking of his phone, the dam- _darn_ thing kept buzzing throughout the morning. Like a pussy, he put it all on silent. He just… didn't want to deal with Kyle today.

There was little sound throughout the kitchen except for the appliances and Butters gushing about how evil and diabolical Charlotte is, but Eric couldn't help but extol and compare between her and Kyle. It was strange how possessive he was over it.

Charlotte took out the breaks on her ex's car and sent it crashing over a cliff? Kyle once mind-fucked Gary Harrison with a few choice words, shattered his faith in God, and now the boy was working as a gay prostitute in Denver. All because the boy knocked on Kyle's door to preach about the Mormon faith.

Eric slumped over the dirtied rolling pin in defeat. Even when he was angry at Kyle, he couldn't help but be obsessed with him. It wasn't healthy, but the separation was just getting worse.

"Eric, sweetie! You've made the wrong dough!"

He looked down and paled. The dough was halfway done and made especially for diabetic-safe cookies.

Just the way Kyle liked them.

A tiny hoarse cry left his throat, but he bit into his thick sleeve and tried to strangle it down. It wasn't not enough because Butters started laughing at him.

"Jeez, Eric. You have it bad." He said viciously. "Must be nice having insurance like that."

Eric's shoulders stiffened up in defense. "What is that supposed to mean?'

"Your boyfriend's the reason you're not dead in some gutter," Butters continued, his dark eyes glittering with malice. "Every time Clyde and the boys want a piece of you, they can't, because they know Kyle would fuck them up first. It's been that way since preschool. He _owns_ you. That's pretty pathetic."

"I think it's sweet," Liane interjected and why should she deny it? Her baby was safe under Kyle's turf. South Park was pretty much his territory at this point. "Eric is such a gentle boy. He needs protection."

"I'm right here, mom," Eric said and it was sharp enough to make both Butters and Liane blink with surprise. "And I can handle myself fine, Butters."

He flinched when Butters brandished a kitchen knife at him, but faltered when he found himself staring down the barrel of a loaded weapon. Liane wasn't wielding it this time.

Butters slowly grinned, but his gaze nervously drifted to the end of the shotgun. "Jesus Christ, Eric. Didn't know you had it in you! What happened to the whole 'I'm a non-violent person' crap?"

Eric gasped in horror at the gun in his hands. He dropped the shotgun and immediately escaped the kitchen, but when he kicked on his shoes and opened the door, he nearly fell over at the sight of Kyle standing casually on his welcome mat.

Before Kyle could lower his finger from the doorbell and open his mouth, Eric squeaked out, "Just leave me alone, Kyle!" and closed the door right on his face.

Liane crossed the living room. "Eric, was that-?"

"Don't let him in!" Eric screamed and bolted into the safety of his room, locking it for good measure.

He curled at the base of the door and looked at his palms with disbelief. He grabbed a weapon. He aimed it at Butters' twisted mug. He slammed the door on his boyfriend's face.

What's wrong with him?!

* * *

Three months ago, the principal finally budgeted enough money to install a shower system in the locker rooms. People complained far too much about the odor coming from the jocks. It got to the point where it became a chemical warfare of deodorant bombs and floral air spray attacks. What was an innocent, (and almost funny), solution predictably escalated.

The last deodorant bombs maimed a group of students with plastic shrapnel. This was unacceptable. Terrorist attacks were only allowed _off_ school grounds.

Eric never liked taking the communal showers after gym. He didn't have a flat stomach or chiseled shoulders like the other boys. Getting made fun of while wearing clothes was already unnecessary. He didn't need to make the taunts worse by undressing.

Boys weren't the only instigators. The girls called him chubby and unattractive in their own passive-aggressive way. They've been calling it for years, so maybe it was true.

So whenever he was encouraged underneath Kyle when they got hot and heavy, Eric always nurtured a flicker of unease. Just what did Kyle see in his physical appearance that the others didn't?

He would stiffen and shut down when his slender counterpart explored and squeezed his waist and chest. He even expected a bra joke the first time Kyle cupped his chest, but he never made a comment about it.

All that mattered was Kyle's sick pleasure in ruining Eric's innocence. Watching porno movies, the slow grind against him in public, the lost of his virginity, Kyle literally screwed him over - figurative and literally.

But if Kyle clearly enjoyed touching him, Eric had to come to grips with his body image and accept that it was fine. It took months before Eric was comfortable losing the shirt and another six months before he let Kyle explore everything below the waistline. Sex was absurdly easy, but the intimacy of it still made him squeamish.

His insecurity came crawling back when Kyle cornered him in the empty locker room with phone in hand. Kyle had made sure to wait until everybody left and sought him out just as Eric quickly retreated from the shower.

Eric let out tiny whine when he was suddenly pushed against the lockers. Kyle's invasive tongue prodded and snaked his way past his protesting lips. Just as Eric sighed and opened his mouth to Kyle in defeat, the shutter sound of Kyle's phone breaks the spell.

"W-what…?" Eric stuttered, wiping saliva from his chin. He paled when Kyle showed him the picture.

His mother would faint if she saw that.

"You… don't put that on Facebook!" he squeaked.

"Yeah, dude. It's _totally_ going on Facebook," Kyle said with a chuckle. He licked away the excess moisture of Eric's shower from his lips in victory. He quickly tapped away at his phone. "It's gonna be my profile pic."

"Nyeh… stop it, Kyle!" Eric lost his towel trying to snatch the phone. Kyle's laugh reverberated in the empty locker room when they ended up wrestling on the bench. The vicious Jew managed to straddle and pin Eric down, but he lost his phone in the process.

"Don't delete that," Kyle warned sharply and it was enough to stray Eric's finger from pressing the trash icon.

Eric lowered the phone and averted his eyes. "Don't put it on Facebook."

"Why would I risk my reputation putting up a picture of me sticking my tongue down your fat mouth?" he replied and contradicted himself by running his fingers across Eric's plump thighs like it was the most natural thing in the world.

"Why would you take the picture at all?" Eric whined. Kyle lowered his head down in answer. His teeth slid across his damp chest until he brushed an incisor over a nipple. Eric gasped when Kyle bit down and he squirmed in a mix of pain and pleasure.

Just when he couldn't handle the pain, his eyes rolled back when a soft wet lick soothed over the sensitive nub. "Unh… I d-don't understand you, Kahl…"

"Keep talking like that," Kyle purred and rewarded the cutesy tone by sucking up every stray wet drop that remained on Eric's chest. If he didn't stop soon, Eric might need to take another shower again, but when Kyle focused on the other nipple, he was effectively lost.

Once Eric was distracted and mewling for more of Kyle's mouth, Kyle snatched back his phone and took another picture of him.

"Kaaaahlllll…!"

Kyle rolled his eyes. "You don't give me sexy pictures," he answered with an accused stare. "Patty sends Stan loads of sexy pictures. Fucking prude."

"Patty's pretty," Eric countered in a soft voice before darting his eyes away.

"Yeah and you're fat and disgusting," Kyle said harshly. "That's why I'm sucking off your tits. I get off on fat and disgusting." He threw his hands up when Eric's lip trembled and took his sarcasm to heart. "God fucking dammit, Cartman. You devour so much fucking food, it's an art form. You could at least own up to your hard work."

Eric couldn't hear Kyle's scathing criticism. Kyle could take better pictures of prettier, slimmer people. He wondered if this was just insurance or a tactic at blackmail. Kyle was rather good at blackmailing.

He started when Kyle pulled out Eric's phone from his backpack under the bench and shoved it into his bare chest. Confusion was evident in his blue eyes when Kyle tossed his hat to the floor and shed his jacket. "Kyle?"

The black shirt came off next. Eric got a pleasing eyeful of a strong slim chest and a light trail of dark red curls going down his abdomen and into his jeans. Kyle grinned down at him and rolled his ass over Eric's hips. Eric let out a strangled whimper as Kyle grounded down over his hard on.

"Do you like this, Eric?"

Eric swallowed hard at the mention of his first name. "Y-yeah."

"Is the sight of me like this making you hard as fuck?" Kyle continued. He said the last word with such filthiness, it made Eric shudder.

"Of course!" Eric whined out the obvious. "You're… you're perfect."

Kyle offered him a soft look. "So take a picture."

The logic blew his mind - and his heart. Kyle laughed when Eric's shaking fingers dropped the phone twice on his face, but he finally managed and aligned the shot.

It was perfect.

Eric was less hesitant when Kyle lifted his own phone to take another picture.

"Bite your lip again," Kyle commanded hoarsely and Eric couldn't help but obey. He thought he wasn't doing a good job, but Kyle looked so eager with every flash. "That's it… yeah, that's good. God, that's hot."

He believed him this time.

Their impromptu photo shoot continued. Eric was compelled to get a few shots in and somewhere along the way Kyle lost his pants. It was a win-win when Eric's shyness evaporated the longer they spent trying to outdo the other on their photography skills. He won by a margin because he was more determined and he can't help but be in awe by how good Kyle looked with a devilish smile and the cock of his nude hips for the camera.

"Hmm…" Kyle's lips brushed along his shoulder while they examined the latest 'masterpiece'. "That's a really good one."

"It is," Eric admitted. He stared at it a bit longer than necessary because Kyle suddenly scoffed and pulled Eric's chin to the side for a sharp kiss. "You're not jealous of your own picture, are you?" Eric's laugh was breathless in between their kisses.

"Come off it, dude," Kyle deflected and the harsh movement of their lips turned slow and lazy. Eric melted into a puddle of nothing. The phone dropped from his fingers, but it bounced harmlessly onto his backpack, absolutely forgotten.

"I like you like this," Kyle suddenly said, pulling away.

Eric was unable to process the words, lost as he was in the sensual haze. He shook his head a bit to clear his thoughts. "Wha-?"

"This," he repeated and when Eric couldn't help but reach out for him, he smirked and let him run his hands up his firm stomach and chest. "You know what you want, Eric," Kyle purred under his touch. "Don't be afraid to take it. It's yours."

He should remember this. Kyle was trying to tell him something in that speech-y kind of way. There's a twisted moral he should take to heart, but he couldn't rub two brain cells together when they were rubbing and indulging themselves like this.

They move their playtime to the showers. Eric couldn't stop complaining about Kyle's spit all over him and their phones weren't waterproofed.

His complaints die on his throat the moment his cock disappeared straight down Kyle's throat under the hot spray of water. He decided Kyle could take all the pictures he wanted of him and post it to Facebook for all he cared.

* * *

Eric didn't know what Kyle did with those pictures, but he never posted it to Facebook like he threatened he would.

His thumb slid across the screen of his phone, taking in one naughty picture of Kyle after another. They don't end up on an social media site either. Eric didn't want the world to know how beautiful Kyle was without clothes.

He had to slog through all the missed phone calls and text notifications to get there, but he couldn't help but feel loved when Kyle shouted at him through voicemail.

 **[You cheeky fucker. Talking to** _ **me**_ **like that? Answer your texts, dammit!]**

 **[I'm going to burn your house down if you don't fucking text back.]**

 **[Cartman! Answer the fucking phone or I'm going to slowly kill you and preserve you in a glass box!]**

Each message was more desperate than the last. Kyle might as well have sent him chocolates and flowers. There was a message from Stan promising hell and Eric took that a bit more seriously. He wasn't sleeping with Stan, _thank god_ , but that meant he didn't know whether he was safe from the boy's threats or not.

Kyle might just let Stan visit in the night with Molotov cocktails just to get his message across.

There were a few texts from Kenny, but half of it was indecipherable. It sounded like he was drunk again, but the overall gist of the message was pretty clear. Kyle is livid and he even sent Kenny after his ass.

He was so lost in the haze of demented love he almost missed his mother knocking on his door.

It was time to go to the Airport Hilton again, but this time Eric wasn't as keen to go.


	8. The Seventh Night of Hanukkah (Part 1)

Eric's heart dropped straight to his gut at Kenny's latest picture posted on his wall.

[ **chek dis shit out! my boy ain't afraid of yor shit north park! rumble fuckers #northpark sux ass #gore #territory scrub** ]

Another territory scrub so close to Christmas? Eric's hands started to turn white and shake at the expression on Kyle's face - which was a mixture of pissed off and weariness. Kyle was sneering at the camera while Stan was preoccupied with the stitchings along his upper arm and shoulder. It looked like he had a close call with a machete.

Eric abandons his pride and bolts out of his house for Kyle's and he's not surprised to find every entrance manned by gingers with firearms. Hesitation isn't even on his mind when he's staring down the barrel of a semi-automatic.

"Let me in!" Eric gasps heavily. "I need to see Kyle!"

The female ginger wasn't swayed, but she sized him up anyways.

"I think it's okay," the other ginger says in a short, stout voice. "It's Eric Cartman. He's a bitch."

"Fuck you!" he snaps and covers his own mouth in horror. A loud, frustrated groan seeps out of his chilled fingers when he shoves his way into the Broflovski residence.

There's more of these unholy gingers inside taking point in the living room and kitchen. He warily takes note of their unflinching stares when he climbs up the stairs and heads to the hallway where it's blissfully free of bodyguards.

Kyle valued his privacy - even at the cost of security.

The hallway bathroom light is turned on and the door's ajar while he can hear Stan and Kenny's voice echo when he peeks his head through. His expression crumples at the sight of the blood all over the floor, the sink, and along the rim of the built-in bathtub where his lover was currently sitting on without a shirt.

Eric is ill at the sight of gore, but he doesn't hesitate to step forward and try not to cry at the state of his weary Jewish boyfriend. Stan's sitting on the toilet still angling to stitch up the gaping wound on Kyle's shoulder while Kenny blinks at Eric from his perch on the edge of the sink.

"Hey, bitch!" Kenny greets cheerfully. He dangles his phone in front of Eric's face. "Looks like you checked your Facebook. Fucking sweet, right?"

"Sweet?! There's nothing sweet about this!" Eric cries out before getting on his knees before Kyle and his strange silence. "Kyle… you need to go to the doctor!"

Kyle's response is chilly. "Fuck. That." Stan isn't using any kind of anesthesia, but they're using the old fashioned method. There's a half-drunk bottle of expensive whiskey by Kyle's feet to help with the pain which explains why he so off-kilter and silent.

Eric feels lost and useless. "Then let me stitch you up at least. Stan's doing a shitty job of it!" Stan's response is to set the needle down and pat threateningly at the butt of his rifle along his lap.

"Did… did you just curse?" Kyle questions in surprise, green eyes bright and unsettling from the booze. Eric wants to cover his mouth again for his unnatural swearing, but he wants to prove that swearing is less important than his lover's health. He levels eye contact with Kyle and keeps it there.

There's a strange beat of silence. "Get off, Stan," Kyle commands and, with a glare, Stan reluctantly obeys. Something seems to give between them because Kenny notes the stare down with a low whistle of surprise.

Eric was better at stitching anyways and they all knew it. Making stuffed animals more or less a cover to improve on his craft. Kyle got into a lot of territory disputes in South Park; the least Eric can do when he's not able to fight is to be their cheap ass medic.

Stan moved out of the way for Eric and with another command, him and Kenny were ordered out of the bathroom. Three was a crowd enough. Four was overkill.

Eric gently undoes the haphazard stitching left by Stan. The blood and pierced flesh makes him sick to his stomach, but it has nothing to do with the gore. He picks up a new sterilized needle and threads it with proficiency.

Kyle holds his newly open and bleeding wound tight for the procedure and his shoulders relax under Eric's expert fingers. It quickly reminds Eric of the first time they've done this shit - the fighter and the medic - all those years ago.

* * *

Eric is the last one of the four to turn thirteen and it's perfect so close to the Christmas season. Thirteen was an unlucky number and therefore tradition to begin participating in the nightly purges. He doesn't want to go, but Kyle is going, and he's too fearful of his and the others' safety to sit around at home and pray they'll still be around in the morning.

Their current relationship is little more than kisses these days. They've graduated to groping and it's obvious that Kyle craves something more of the line of Kenny's expertise. Eric oftentimes got ill of the sexual brags Kenny liked to boast about the last few months.

Kyle must have sensed Eric's hesitation about sex, so he doesn't bring it up, and it leaves Eric unsure if this was a good or bad thing. He doesn't want to lose Kyle because he's a prude and it's quite clear that, if Kyle had been determined enough, he could have gotten Eric to do anything he wanted with a few sweet words.

But Kyle doesn't press the issue. Eric likes to believe that there's some kind of spark of goodness still within his boyfriend because of it.

It's the second reason why he's donning black clothes and bumping shoulders Kyle and Stan in the back of Uncle Jimbo's truck. If he can't put out, he might as well be useful, though he's not sure how useful he could be with purges.

He doesn't want to hurt anyone or break anything. Kyle points this out just as Kenny finished chattering about all the shit he was gonna steal in North Park. "What are you even doing here, Cartman?" he asks seriously. "This is like the opposite of what you are."

"Yeah," Stan agrees maliciously. He punches Eric in the arm to make him flinch and ignores the glare Kyle shoots at him when his boyfriend whimpers in pain. "You're just gonna slow us down, fatso." Kenny nods eagerly to his words.

Eric rubs his arm ruefully, glad at least the heavy outfit helped abate the whistling winter air. He wishes they used Kyle's family van instead for this. "I… I want to do it too!" he says lamely and intentionally avoids his boyfriend's sharp look. "I won't slow you down."

"Yes you will," Kyle replies and he sounds so sure, it makes Eric want to tear up in embarrassment. He was right though. Eric was completely useless in this kind of scenario. The best thing he'd do is get everyone killed.

The truck comes to a stop in a dark, unfamiliar neighborhood. All the streetlights were out save for the truck's high beams. It makes Eric want to curl into a corner and hide in fear.

Stan and Kenny wastes no time hopping out of the vehicle when Uncle Jimbo thumps at the side for their attention. He unveils the tarp beneath their feet and Eric's eyes literally bulge out at the sophisticated weaponry bestowed upon them. Surely Uncle Jimbo doesn't think they could use army-grade gear…

"I call dibs on the bazooka!" Kenny says cheerfully, but he's skinny as hell so he nearly falls over pulling out the large weapon out of the truck bed.

Stan shoves Kenny's face roughly aside. With a loud 'oof', Kenny was thrown to the dirt on the side of the road. "Fuck off, assmunch. The bazooka's mine!"

"Ah youth," Uncle Jimbo says proudly while his half-nephew and friend brawled over the bazooka. "I remember my first night purge. It was magical. Blew up an entire orphanage, I did. Nuns and orphans just running around on fire! Like Christmas lights!" While he reminisced, Kenny had ended up bouncing to his feet and tackled Stan in a vicious fight.

"Cool, dude!" Stan says cheerfully under Kenny's headlock and Eric feels sick.

Kyle stops him from taking a weapon. "...Kyle?"

"Stay with the truck," his boyfriend orders sternly. "I don't want you with us."

His words cut Eric deeply and his expression crumples under his camouflage makeup. "But…"

"Do you want to be here? Seriously? Don't bullshit me, Eric."

He says his first name so softly, Eric can't help but look down and whisper, "No." His head snaps up when Kyle climbs out of the truck bed. "But I don't want you to go! What if you get hurt?!" he demands meekly. "I want to be with you."

Kyle's expression is almost unreadable thanks to the low lighting. He raises his hand up as if to smack him and Eric squeezes his eyes shut to wait for the blow. His body instinctively flinches the moment a leathery gloved hand brushes against his cheek so gently, he relaxes.

Eric opens his eyes the moment Kyle swipes his bottom lip with his thumb and kisses him. A tiny keening whimper leaves him before that too is swallowed up by Kyle's dauntless mouth. He'd rather do this instead tonight - just him, Kyle, and a couch with some horror movie playing in the background. The only death is beyond the TV screen and even that's ignored in favor of rough kisses and gentle caresses.

He'd even… if Kyle wanted… if it meant they wouldn't be out here… he'd let Kyle _have_ him.

He can hear Stan loudly gag and Kenny cheer them on. Kyle shoots the middle finger at them when they part.

"Stay here," he warns Eric again and it's so soft, he knows it's meant for his ears only. "I can't concentrate when I have to deal with watching your tubby ass."

It's a very good point. No one was going to risk ambushing a truck full of weapons with Jimbo and Ned there to protect their precious vehicle. Eric would be perfectly safe under their protection, but he still doesn't like it. "Don't die, okay?" he pleads. "Be safe."

"Don't underestimate me," Kyle says shortly, but he flashes him a quick wink before shouldering a rifle and jumping off the truck bed in his new combat boots. He's so handsome and confident under his leather jacket and baseball cap it takes Eric's breath away.

But in the end, he's left behind with Uncle Jimbo and Ned. Kyle and the others eagerly disappears over brick walls and gates through the residential lots like rats scurrying through sewers. Eric has a shitload of guns beneath him, but he doesn't feel anymore protected when Kyle isn't here.

As the hour slowly ticks by, the lullaby of death and property damage fills the chill winter air, and Eric can't help but curl protectively into his hoodie when he hears shouts of struggle. His head pops out over the truck bed when he sees fireworks suddenly go off not too far away.

"Whoooooo doggy!" Uncle Jimbo swore happily through his binoculars. "Looks like Stanny boy managed to break into the fireworks factory down on Main Street!" Ned is in the midst of checking the map on his phone before phoning it in to the boys.

Eric disobeys his boyfriend's command and climbs out of the truck just to hear and make sure everything is okay.

Ned looked up from his walkie-talkie. "One - casualty." Eric's heart drops straight into his stomach. He snatches the walkie-talkie from the man's hands and desperate calls into it.

"Kyle? Kyle!" There's a range of static before he gets an answer, but it's not Kyle. Instead it's Stan and his voice goes in and out.

"Fuck...ers!" Stan hisses through the receiver. "I'll kill…!" Static replaces whatever Stan was trying to shout down. The receiver trembles in Eric's hand before he shoves it back into Ned and starts fishing out a military-grade medical kit and a weapon he was familiar with.

Jimbo whistled at his choice. "Woo… a Kel-Tec PF-9? You sure you don't want something with a little more kick, Eric?"

"I'm just taking it for protection!" Eric shot over his shoulder. "Where's the fireworks factory?!"

He had never ventured like this, but his fear of losing Kyle overrode everything else - even the risk of coming across the North Park purge gangs that frequented the area. The fireworks factory was in flames and there were glass and debris littered all over the adjacent street.

Every once in awhile there's a high pitched whistling sound and Eric was having trouble differentiating between a firework and gunshots. There was a standoff further down the road, but he recognized Stan's hat peeking out from behind an abandoned car.

Eric had to slide in between cars to avoid opposing gunfire, and it looked like his friends had 'accidentally' stumbled into a purge gang's turf. Now Stan was pinned and Kyle and Kenny were nowhere to be found.

"Stan!" Eric shouted. "Where's Kyle and Kenny?"

"Wha…?" Stan finished unloading his magazine over the roof of the car and then cringed at him. "Oh fuck me. A _telephone pole_ would have been better backup!"

"Where's Kyle?!" he screeched.

Stan grit his teeth and slid down against the side while bullets shot through the last intact window. "I don't know, dude! But Kenny's wasted! Fucker got caught in the explosion!"

But Eric didn't care. Kenny always came back to life the next day. He was the only one who knew this. But Kyle couldn't come back the same way. He couldn't.

When Stan ran out of ammo, Eric handed over his gun. Stan gave his medkit a long deliberate look before returning fire again. "Kyle's somewhere!" he promised harshly. "He took point so I can cover the area! Those motherfuckers jumped us breaking into a jewelry store. Fucking turf heads!"

Eric wasn't going to get any answers with Stan like this - caged and aggressive - so he followed where Stan had pointed at and thought he saw a familiar gloved hand resting on the ground behind another car. He bolted without care of the gunfire zipping dangerously close over his head and nearly choked back a sob when he found Kyle resting against the fender and clutching the side of his face.

There was so much blood. It sank into thick texture of Kyle's gloves, down his chin and disappeared into his black jacket. Huffing and delirious with adrenaline, Eric got down on his knees and tried to gently shake him awake. "Kyle? Kyle!"

Kyle's response was raspy and thick. "…not so… loud… fucker." He started repeating Stan's name when Eric plunged into the medkit for something - anything to help him out.

"I'm not Stan," Eric corrected and grabbed Kyle's shoulders. "Kyle… it's Eric. I'm here!"

Those unseeing green eyes fluttered in and out as the information sank in. "C-Cartman?" He dropped his hand and Eric almost gagged at the sight. It looked like someone stuck a meat cleaver across Kyle's forehead and temple trying to lob the top of his head off. The long jagged cut was still bleeding and Eric instinctively reached out to staunch it.

"It's gonna be okay!" Eric half-sobbed out. "I'm gonna take care of you!" He hated the sight of gore, but he would wholly wade through a vat of blood for Kyle. He knew this the moment he threw open the medkit and dug through dirty blood and torn skin just to sew the wound closed. It wasn't as professional or as clean as Eric would like it to be, but they were literally in the middle of a warzone and the best he could do is make sure the bleeding stopped long enough to get Kyle to a hospital.

Once he was properly bandaged, Kyle wasted no time trying to get to his feet. "Do you have a weapon on you?"

"I gave it to Stan-" Eric tried to explain, but he was suddenly yanked by the hand and brought close.

"Give me your phone."

"W-what happened to yours?"

Kyle gave him a very ugly, but self-deprecating sneer. "Some fucking kid looted me."

It was better than the alternative - like killing him - but Eric didn't think Kyle was in the mood to discuss his luck. He begrudgingly took the tire iron they picked up among the wreckage while Kyle called Stan using his cell phone. There was something oddly sensual in the way Kyle held himself despite looking like a bloodied wreck. He could be on his last pint of blood and still look like he was in charge.

Eric thought it was awe-inspiring and yeah, maybe a bit of a turn on.

Kenny was an unfortunate loss, but only Eric was aware that he'd be back the next morning. In the meantime, Kyle still had that vengeful sneer over the lost of his comrade, and Eric knew that if they didn't manage to save Stan, Kyle was going to make sure North Park would be entirely burnt down come morning.

Fortunately for North Park, they did manage to collect Stan, who actually managed to pull a sweet kill count with just Eric's pitiful handgun. His love for small weapons to prolong the suffering of his victims was born that day - all thanks to South Park's resident sweetheart.

While they made a hasty retreat back into the residential district, they came across a few looters making off with laptops and food across the Cosco parking lot.

Kyle grabbed Stan's gun and shot one of them point-blank in the back. The looter fell face first into the asphalt, his bag of stolen items scattering in the process.

"Shtik drek!" Kyle hissed and spat blood and saliva at the corpse.

"Holy shit, you got 'em!" Stan said in awe.

"Got who? Why did you…?" Eric was ready to question why Kyle singled this particular guy out until Kyle ordered Stan to loot the corpse.

He came up with cash and Kyle's stolen cell phone. "Oh." Eric hadn't been kidding. Kyle could really hold a grudge if he wanted to. He tried to ignore the way Kyle licked away the blood away from his teeth in lewd satisfaction like some kind of animal.

It's supposed to disgust Eric. It doesn't and he's ashamed of it. Kyle hangs his arm around Eric's thick shoulders for support and all the shame disappears the moment Eric presses comfortably against his boyfriend's side.

When they got home, Kyle refused a trip to the hospital. Instead, Mr. Broflovski handed him a bottle of sacramental wine and told Eric to do the stitching himself and if he fucked it up, he was gonna end up hung up on a cross the way they used to do it to his Lord and savior.

Eric learned how to keep the stitches small with Sheila overseeing his work. It's the first time he's ever spent quality time with Kyle's parents. They don't bother them about their relationship since then, but Eric was still sure they didn't approve of his pacifism.

Kyle never cried or complained about the stitching. And when he was done, he studied his reflection in the mirror and wordlessly praised Eric's handiwork with a sound kiss. "Looks like you've got a use for these nights after all," he murmured.

They don't go on the nightly purges as much as the others did, but Kyle never went without Eric.

* * *

This time, Kyle did. He went on a purge without Eric. His steady fingers started to tremble with the last of the stitches. It hurt. It really fucking hurt.

"Why didn't you tell me you were out purging?" he asked softly. "I could've…"

"What the fuck could you do?" Kyle snarled and then hissed when Eric started to dress up the stitches. "You're doing your gay telethon, remember? Like you give a shit anyways…"

"If I knew you were going to do this shit, I would've…!" Eric trailed off, suddenly unsure. What would he have done? He couldn't have joined them. The veterans needed his support. No one else would. They needed -

"Heidi was there," Kyle said with a hint of something that somehow made Eric's blood boil. "I was laying in my own blood and she held me."

"You're… you're trying to get a rise out of me," he replied sadly and looked down. He doesn't want to imagine that happening. He doesn't want to believe. The truth was he wanted to be with Kyle for the holidays. More than ever before.

But giving in and ignoring people out there who were much more unfortunate and in need of help would be losing this -thing- they seemed to be competing in. Kyle was turning this into a battle of attrition and it just wasn't fair.

The more Eric played, the more his achievements so far lost its inherent goodness. Once he started doing this out of pride, that was it. Then this whole struggle was for nothing.

Something gave the moment Eric pressed his lips against the gauze, his blue eyes flickering upwards in a gesture of apology. "I don't want to fight over this," Eric breathed. "I've missed you, Kyle."

As he expected, Kyle's cold expression shifted into something more desirable. His fingers slid from the corner of Eric's lips as he continued his kisses and tangled into soft brown curls. He flexed his grip and pulled Eric's hair back to expose that pale throat - a silent offering of submission and true remorse.

"You're such a pussy, Eric," Kyle slurred out into a purr. "But I love it. I wanna lock you up in my room and never let you out. Make you feel good every night so you never want to leave."

The words brought Eric's cock twitching through his jeans. "Oh…" he mewed before he was swept up in rough lips and the slide of Kyle's hot tongue. Eric opened up to the invasion with ease. He tasted whiskey and peppermints and something else that was entirely Kyle. It was like returning home for the first time in years.

He missed this. God, did he miss this.

His knees hurt from kneeling on the tiled floor and he whined when Kyle pulled him forward. "K-kyle…"

"Hmm…" With his other hand, Kyle slid down Eric's shirt, making note to squeeze and rub his plump flesh every step of the way. He tugged the edge of it hard and Eric began to shake from anticipation and the chill of the bathroom when Kyle pulled off his shirt and tossed it into the blood-soaked tub.

Eric folds his arms over his chest. Goosebumps run across his skin, but it had little to do with the chill. Kyle leaned back and watched him like some kind of predator, his green eyes promising to kill and devour him whole.

"My room," Kyle decided and it was hoarse enough for Eric to quickly submit. There was nothing that was going to stop Kyle from getting what he wanted. "I'm going to fuck you so hard, you won't be moving for days. And you're going to take it. Aren't you?"

His cock strained against his denim. "Y… yes…" Eric couldn't help but whisper. "I need you." They were magic words. He let out a soft cry when Kyle gripped him through his jeans and squeezed, making his hips buck and his knees dig harder into the tile. Unable to steady himself, Eric dipped forward and bury his face into Kyle's shoulder, muffling his moans before it reverberated through the bathroom.

Suddenly, the pressure on his dick lessened and he couldn't help but cry out in frustration when Kyle pulled away and rocked them on the edge of the tub. "Be a good boy…" Kyle urged with a sharp grin. "Bed. Now."

Eric quickly scrambled to his feet and let out a sigh of relief for his poor abused knees. He slunk over to the door, his head bowed and shoulders slumped in submission while Kyle pulled himself up. He stumbled a bit and Eric started forward, but held back at his lover's glare. Even in his weakened state, he still saw himself as the more powerful one.

He wouldn't be wrong.

They barely made it into the hallway. Once they connected through the door, Kyle nearly barreled him against the wall for another searing kiss. Eric gasped in pleasure when Kyle's hands slid down his ass and squeezed. "Guh…" he panted out when Kyle's hard on pressed hard against his thigh.

"Yeah..." Kyle growled against his mouth. "That's it… open…" Eric parted his legs at the command. "Just like that. Good…" He shoved himself between Eric's legs and his blue eyes rolled back in pleasure.

They slowly rocked in a lazy grind that short circuited every thought in Eric's head. He gave into Kyle's assault and let those sharp teeth slice into his bottom lip. Pain and pleasure clouded his senses, which only heightened when Kyle found one of his nipples and tweaked at it. Eric let out a sharp cry before that too was devoured by Kyle's mouth.

Kyle had flicked open the button of Eric's jeans when they heard three loud claps near the stairs. Flushing, Eric tried to turn away from Kenny's wolfish grin, but a firm hand against his chest had him pinned to the wall. Kyle shot an annoyed look at Kenny.

"Occupied, McCormick," he drawled. His nose wrinkled when Eric tried to cover himself, so he squeezed at his love handles. Eric let out a sharp bark of laughter before mewling under Kyle's insistent mouth again.

Kenny spent a couple seconds admiring Kyle's exhibitionist streak before speaking. "Those fuckers from North Park burned down the coffee house. Tweek's parents are offering a fuckload of a bounty for their heads."

Eric started coming out of his haze, so Kyle ground into him again. He began to pant like a bitch in heat when Kyle pinned him by the wrists and suckled at his throat like Kenny wasn't even here to start with. It was so embarrassing to be seen like this and yet it was so thrilling.

Kyle wanted him. He wanted him so much he didn't care if anyone saw. It was an establish of pure dominance and if it wasn't for Kyle's strong grip, Eric would have already collapsed to the floor from his weak knees.

Those green eyes lit up at the prospect of cash. He pulled his teeth a fraction away from Eric's throat. "Dead or alive?"

"It's an extra ten G's if we bring them in alive." Eric could see Kenny's brilliant white teeth in the corner of his eyes. "But it might be safer just killing them. Tucker said he's seen them coming in from the town line a couple hours ago."

Kyle stiffened and shared a look with Eric, who could only blink back in confusion.

"Craig?" Eric whispered. They weren't exactly chummy with Craig's gang and more often enough, Kyle would rally his gang for the local turf wars, but it never went that far. Maybe one or two casualties at the most. It was as friendly as it got between them, but they still kept a stoic distance from one another.

For Craig to start feeding Kyle with information sounded troubling.

Kenny fished out his phone and casually ran his thumb through it. "Yeah man. Fucking Craig, the asshole. And Stan thinks he's looking for a temporary alliance - just long enough to kick these fuckers out of South Park."

"If that's the case, then it's war," Kyle said flatly, his tone business-like once more. "Those _kuckers_ are gonna regret fucking in my territory."

"You want me to text him?" Kenny dangled his phone.

"Text him? I expect you to call his ass," Kyle snapped. "Only trendy assholes text over a turf war. We do this legit. With respect."

Kenny opened his palms in surrender before dialing. "Okay, okay. Fucking sheesh. Maybe you should get laid first. Sorry I interrupted."

With a resigned blink, Kyle let go of Eric and cupped his jaw in a rare display of tenderness. Eric couldn't help but boldly lean forward and reassure his lover with gentle kisses. He can't stop Kyle from fighting - he couldn't - but he wished this didn't happen. All he wanted was for them to be together and not worry that this could be their last.

But in this world, in this _universe_ , that just wasn't the norm. It was kill or be killed, fuck or be fucked. He savored every kiss and every press of skin they shared and implored Kyle with his eyes and the downturn of his lips when Kenny handed the phone over.

He could hear the phone ring against Kyle's ear, but Kyle seemed more preoccupied just looking at him like he was the only important thing in the entire universe. This was why Eric loved him - would always love him - no matter how much of a monster Kyle would end up becoming.

The phone clicked and Craig's curt voice drifted through the speaker. Kyle began to speak about alliances and the status of North Park's infiltration into their sleepy mountain town, but Eric just couldn't seem to concentrate when Kyle continue to look so focused on him. In between pauses, Eric continued to press loving kisses along Kyle's jaw, uncaring of Kenny's stare at this point.

He could never be the warrior Kyle wanted, but he could at least be the lover he desired. Not Heidi or Rebecca or the other trophy girls who wanted a piece of his lover.

Kyle was his.

Without missing a beat, Kyle hung up on Craig and gave Eric a strange once over. The mood had long since passed, but the look in Kyle's eyes felt a little unsettling.

"Kyle?"

"Are you going to the Airport Hilton again tonight?"

This again. Eric averted his eyes. "There's still tonight and tomorrow. I have to." He screwed his eyes shut and waited for a harsh blow or an insult that never came. When Eric opened one eye, he found that Kyle's expression hadn't changed.

Suddenly, Eric found himself being steered into Kyle's room and pushed onto the bed. The mattress creaked and bounced under his weight when Kyle locked the door and climbed on top of him. "W-wha…?"

"I'm taking Kenny's advice," Kyle purred and ripped open his jeans. Eric was too fixated on the trail of dark hair going down his navel and disappearing under the waistband of Kyle's briefs. "I'm going to fuck you unconscious."

This was more than dirty pillow talk. Kyle literally fucked him until Eric was an exhausted, ruined mess of limbs and sweat. There was no love or romance in his touch. It was business, the means to an end. Still the pleasure was enough to leave him a whimpering pile of nothing.

It was only when Eric woke up alone in Kyle's bed and alarm clock telling him that it was almost eleven at night did it dawn on him what just happened.

Kyle tried to stop him from continuing his telethon.

Eric scrambled out of bed, picked up his clothes and dashed out the door until he realized he was missing a shirt. He ran back in and furiously dug through Kyle's drawers for something that would fit him.

To his surprise, he found a very handsome grey hoodie in one of the plastic bags littered at the foot of Kyle's bed. It even fit him perfectly. He didn't think much of it afterwards, lost as he was to get to the Airport Hilton. He didn't even bother going home and explaining himself to his mother about missing curfew.

He hopped into her truck and drove through the darkness, unaware that he was driving alone during a gigantic turf war that was going to start. When he hit a red light he paused and found himself in a dilemma.

If he went to the Hilton, he wouldn't be there for Kyle and the others. But this was the seventh night of Hanukkah and one day closer to complete anarchy for the season. If anyone needed help now in the bloodthirsty festivities, it would definitely be the many homeless vets out there that were easy pickings for terrorizing.

Eric gripped the steering wheel hard. Just who the fuck was he kidding?

Just when the light turned green, he noticed a flutter of brown hair across the street and down near the church. Eric curiously leaned forward and watched as Heidi suspiciously looked around before following a strange boy down the block toward the woods.

His gut warned him of something. They were supposed to be rivals for Kyle's affection, but Eric didn't want to see her hurt. He quickly changed lanes and turned off his lights while following them to the edge of sidewalk towards Stark's Pond.

Eric parked his car in the lone parking lot at the visibly empty police station and quickly fished for his baseball bat in the trunk before he lost visual. His grip on the bat trembled. He didn't want there to be an altercation.

But he'd be a grade A moron to go without protection now.


	9. The Seventh Night of Hanukkah (Part 2)

A light cascade of snow started to come down. It was almost scenic in a dark and dreary kind of way. Stark's Pond was completely frozen over, but no one was ice skating or occupying the area tonight.

Every kid in South Park got the invitation for the North/South brawl going down outside Kenny's house. It was an open full-scale breeding ground where everyone can crowd in and massacre each other while the cops idly stood by and made bets on who would die tonight. It was disgusting and horrible and Eric didn't want to imagine his friends being there right now with chains and guns and the entire student body at their beck and call.

So why wasn't Heidi over there cheering her 'man' on? Eric followed them far enough to go undetected and, every time they stopped to look around, Eric would hide behind a tree or something.

This time, he crouched down behind a large stone trash can near a bench when Heidi turned and pulled out her phone.

"I think Middle Park got lost in the woods," she whispered. "Which is so buttfucking stupid because North Park got here _faster_ than them!"

The unfamiliar boy smiled beneath his baseball cap. "Don't worry about it. By the time Middle Park gets here, South Park's numbers are gonna be thinned down. Then we'll spring them from behind and wipe them out. They're gonna wish they didn't fuck with us."

Eric grit his teeth and started to fish out his phone. He was in the midst of sending out a mass text to everyone he conceivably had on his contact list when something else they said caused him to still.

"I want Kyle," Heidi breathed. "You leave him breathing, Ron. That's the deal."

Ron scoffed. "It would be a hell of a lot better if he's dead. I wanna put his kike head on a pike and use it as a flag."

"Well that's not gonna happen, asshole! I wasn't gonna sell out half the school if it meant you weren't gonna hold up your end of the deal!" she hissed.

"What's your fucking damage? Find another dick to hound on."

Heidi's eyes darkened and her smile turned unhinged. "I just don't want my kid to grow up without a father."

"What?"

Eric's blood ran cold.

"I'm pregnant," she replied eagerly. "My parents can't afford the security system anymore. We'll be ruined without it. But the Broflovski's? They're fucking rich. Can you imagine the child support with their income? Kyle might even have to _marry_ me. I'll be at the top of the food chain and you'll get your fucking turf or whatever stupid male shit you gotta do."

Heidi was _pregnant_. She was pregnant with Kyle's child. She was pregnant and she was going to kill all of his friends for a shot at the social ladder.

Eric began to tremble. She was going to use her body to ruin Kyle's life. The unwanted child would be her ultimate insurance policy.

What was worse was that he didn't care about the lives about to be lost down at Kenny's or the state of the town. He only thought about Kyle betraying him and sleeping with Heidi while they buried their friends and comrades. He thought about her swelling stomach and the look the Broflovski's would share before agreeing to a dowry.

He thought about Kyle unwittingly duped into marrying her and raising a child born out of power instead of love. He thought about Kyle leaving him for Heidi because of it.

Kyle would leave him.

 _He would leave him._

Something snapped in Eric that moment. The black mass that had been churning in his stomach was now leeching into every limb of his body like a disease. It slipped up his spinal cord and straight into his brain. It flipped the switch long since buried in his mind - triggering a dark part of him that finally belonged to this decaying universe.

Pupils blown, Cartman waited until their backs were fully turned and silently stood up. All he could think about was Kyle. Kyle. Kylekylekyle~

It wasn't Kyle's fault Heidi got pregnant. That was what his fucked up head believed. Kyle was perfect. This was all Heidi's fault. She wanted him to suffer. She was in the way.

The bat carried behind his back felt like a beacon, the answer to all of his problems. It was his salvation.

Fuck the charity drive. Fuck good will. Fuck Christmas. This bitch wanted to baby trap his man. She wasn't going to get away with it.

He casually caught up to them until they noticed. Ron stiffened at his large presence and moved to pull out his blade, but Heidi stopped him with a hand.

"It's just Eric Cartman. He's harmless," she said before offering Cartman a friendly smile. It was so adorable, so unassuming, his blood completely boiled over. "Hey, Eric. Isn't your telethon on tonight?"

"There's been a change of plans," Cartman said sweetly. "Would you like some Christmas cheer?"

They both shared a look.

"Um… not right now. We're kind of busy. You know, turf war and all," she replied.

Cartman took a pleasant step forward. "Now, now, it's the holidays! How about a song? I've been told my voice knocks people clean off their feet. It's quite amazing."

Ron lost his patience when Cartman started humming out the festive tune. "For fuck's sake, no! Now beat it asshole!"

When the boy turned towards the woods, Cartman pulled out the bat from behind and swung it as hard he could at Ron's skull. Heidi screamed when bat connected with a sickening crack and the boy crumpled onto snow pile. Spurts of blood sprinkled white.

"It's the most wonderful time of the year~" Cartman sang out with a psychotic grin. Heidi cowered as he advanced towards her, his bat dragging along the sidewalk in tune to his singing.

"I told you my singing would knock you off your feet."

She doubled over when he banged her right in the stomach. Then the bat came down over her head. Heidi let out a broken cry as her head made a sickening smack sound on the slick sidewalk.

Her screams through the chilled air were beautiful.

Cartman stomped hard on her fingers when she tried to reach for her switchblade. The strangled gasping sounds she made fluttered at his senses, igniting for more. So stupid trying to arm herself now. Perhaps it was her maternal instincts kicking in? Eric's lips pulled back into a snarl.

His first two victims lay sprawled before him. There was blood and items strewn about and it was a picture he wanted to paint into memory. With a heartless tilt of his head, he pushed down on her fingers until they were raw and bleeding into the asphalt.

"Can you hear me, Heidi?" he whispered. "I bet you can. Look at you. Look at your pretty face." When the bat came down sharply on her face again, she flipped to her side and whimpered. "Oh my. Well… when you _had_ a pretty face."

When she didn't respond, he seized a handful of her hair and pulled. She let out a gurgle and blood was pooling out of her torn lips. One of her eyes were swollen shut and her nose was at an unfortunate angle. "Aren't you fucking ugly," he laughed hollowly. "Do you think Kyle would want your ghetto ass now? Don't you think that's funny, Heidi? Huh?! Where's your HOLIDAY SPIRIT~?!"

The boy he clobbered over hadn't stirred from his faceplant into the snow. Perhaps he was dead. Cartman spared little thought for him.

Heidi was oh so much more important. Wasn't she pregnant now? Cartman's fingers tingled when he picked up her discarded switchblade. His empty blue eyes drifted to her curled form and the creature in her stomach. He didn't see any bump, but maybe it was the angle.

The thought of her carrying Kyle's child literally made him sick. Sick enough that it was his divine right to intervene. She didn't have the right. It wasn't in the plan.

He dropped her onto her back. With a press of his thumb, the blade slid out of its sheath with a clean pop. It glittered under the glow of the moonlight. The way he was casually humming Christmas music under his breath he might as well have been baking cookies.

"Shh~ this might hurt a tiny bit, Heidi." Cartman consoled her shuddering form with a gentle hand. He wanted to see if Kyle's child was as evil as she was on the inside. Maybe she too had black stuff within her. Maybe, if he tore it completely out, it would slake his thirst for blood.

Just as he started cutting through her flattering coat his phone vibrated in his pocket. He let the tip dance across her bare stomach for a moment before he fished the phone with his free hand.

 _"Cartman?"_ Kyle's voice drifted into his ear like a calming balm.

Cartman sighed happily. "Hi, Kahl~"

 _"You sent a text earlier. Everyone and their grandma got it. How the fuck did you know about Middle Park?"_

"Don't worry about it, babe." He kissed the receiver loud enough for Kyle to hear. "I'm taking care of everything." His gaze drifted to her bloodied face and the way Heidi was trying to breathe through a broken nose.

The call fell silent. _"You're not at home are you?"_

"Nope," Cartman said serenely. "Just… having a pleasant stroll with Heidi. She said a lot of things to me. We're super close~"

 _"Where are you?"_

"Don't worry about it, Kyle. You just go and kick some ass."

 _"Cartman, what the fu-"_ The call clicked to an end.

With a deep sigh, Cartman rested his arms on his knees and gave Heidi a good once over. Was she still alive? Her chest was still rising, but not for long. He fucked her up pretty good. Her and her little traitorous friend. Power and control coiled through him like he was on a high. It felt so good, he could cry.

Man, he could use a cigarette or something.

That was when an idea hit him. He looked over his shoulder where the truck was still parked.

"Mmm… wouldn't it be so nice if we can do some good for the world~?" he sang to Heidi before dusting himself off. Cartman cupped his ear when she gurgled nonsensically. "What was that? You want to make amends and help me? Wow, you're so sweet and kewl, Heidi." His blue eyes glittered in the moonlight. "I'm sure you'll make a _great_ mom. Maybe."

The set up didn't take long. He drove his truck up to the edge of the woods and then dragged them away before anyone caught wind of two bodies near the church. With a bit of rope, he tied both of them to a pair of trees and marveled at his handiwork.

"There we gooo~" Cartman said with thick pride. In front of them was a tripod and a camera rigged to his laptop - all of which were supposed to be used for his telethon. The truck's high beams bathed the entire area in light. It wasn't the sweetest set up, but it was all just so last minute…

This would just have to do.

He cupped Heidi's jaw and lightly patted at the black bruises blossoming across her cheekbone. "Tsk, tsk, Heidi! Look at you! We're going live in five minutes and you haven't put on any make up!" Cartman dramatically sighed and let go, enjoying the way her head drooped forward. "We'll just have to make due with your _glowing_ personality. Remember Heidi, do it for the vets!"

Already the viewers were pouring in with anticipation. Cartman eagerly checked his laptop. The chatroom was already full with people bitching and moaning… and why shouldn't they? His post on Facebook got so many likes.

He told everyone to tune into his livestream and find out who turned over the entire town of South Park to their rivals.

As his phone chimed for eight on the nose, Cartman turned on the camera. _In five, four, three, two…_

From his laptop, he can see himself on the stream, grinning for the audience.

"Good evening, South Park!" he greeted with a sly grin. "And welcome to our annual telethon! We're depending on your donations for the homeless vets out there, but who gives a shit at the moment? No, you're here for the dish aren't ya? I don't know about you guys, but I'm fed up of backstabbing little weasels fucking up this humble mountain town. Would you like to see the bitch who ratted South Park out?"

He moved out of the way for the camera so everyone could see Heidi and Ron drawn up like animals. The stream literally froze for a few seconds due to the explosion of bandwidth, so Cartman took the time to zoom in on Heidi when it finally buffered.

"Heidi Turner, ladies and gentlemen!" he trilled. "Give this sneaky bitch a round of applause!"

The chatroom zipped through with death threats and calls for her head. Cartman obliged and roughly pulled her hair up so she could face the camera. She was finally conscious, but just barely. Her eyes darted in panic at the camera.

"P-please…" she tried to say through her dislocated jaw, but Cartman dropped her head again. Instead, he pulled out a wallet he fished out of Ron's pants and started rifling it.

"And her lovely companion for tonight is North Park's own Ron Watkins! Oh my, isn't this… why I believe it is. Isn't this Drake Watkins' younger brother? For those in the audience unawares, Drake holds two-thirds of North Park's purge gangs-" He held up two fingers for the camera. "In fact, he was _supposed_ to march at the McCormick territory tonight, wasn't he? Well, Drake, if you're watching right now, here's why your little whistleblower didn't check in." He picked up the bloodied bat and wiggled it for the camera. "Yeah… feels good, brah. Ain't that a bitch?"

His phone started ringing again. The ringtone belonged to Kyle. He ignored it. His lover really shouldn't try and kiss his ass now that he was oh so popular with his telethons now.

"Here's where we make this fun," Cartman continued with a bloodthirsty gleam in his eyes. "See, I singlehandedly saved South Park from getting razed to the ground. That's right me - Eric Cartman - your resident _bitch_."

He sneered. "You fuckers _owe_ me. But then I thought, hey… I'm a nice guy. Fuck, I'm the _nicest_ guy in this entire fucking town! I should do nice things, right?! So here's the deal. You assholes got the link to my kickstarter. Start donating. The highest donation gets to decide how I take care of Turncoat Heidi and Watkins. Sounds fair, right? Sounds Christmas-y? All the proceeds goes straight to my donation drive. You too can help vets and maim traitors in one fell swoop. Sounds pretty fucking sweet to me! You've got ten minutes to crack open your piggy banks, so don't take long!"

The donations came pouring in faster than Cartman expected. Fifty bucks, a hundred bucks, two-fifty - the police department actually threw in two grand into the kickstarter when he last checked.

"Don't you just love giving in this time of year?" Cartman asked the camera. He played with the bat a bit to pass the time. "Tick-tock! Oooh! Kevin Stoley just put in a _hundred bucks_ for a beheading! How topical! And look, Heidi! Your best friend Annie put in a group donation with the other girls to get your tits cut off for three-fifty! My, my, you sure are losing popularity points with the cheerleader squad!"

At the nine minute mark, Cartman pointed at the timer on the screen. "One minute left! The Tweaks donated FIVE GRAND! Is that how much these lives are worth? Apparently!" Watkins was a hot ticket on their bounty, even a family member.

Ron hadn't moved since he tied him up. Cartman would have thought he was dead if he hadn't kicked him until he stirred before blacking out again. Must be one hell of a concussion.

"Three, two, one…" He dramatically threw down his wrist watch. "And time's up! Well, holy shit. We raised four times the target goal! Krampus isn't gonna invade South Park this year with all of you generous donators! And… oh my! Looks like the Tweaks beat out South Park High's donation pool for a whopping ten G's! Let's see their request, shall we?"

He read the terms aloud. " _Heidi Turner must be scalped and gutted. Ron Watkins must have his throat slit and dismembered._ Hmm… not very creative, but I suppose you can't slam the classics."

Cartman popped open the switchblade with a serene smile. "Are you ready to be entertained, South Park?" he purred.

"CARTMAN!"

The bright lights from Kyle's van bathed him from the side. Picking up the bat, he straightened and swayed it in his palm when Kyle hopped out and scrutinized the scene.

And when those green eyes widened, Cartman smiled indulgently. "Are you finally treating my telethons seriously, Kahl?"

"Holy fucking shit." Kyle moved forward and stilled at the sight of Heidi and Ron drawn up. "This… this is real? The livestream…" His breath hitched when the thick end of Cartman's baseball bat slid under his chin and tilted his gaze upwards.

Cartman didn't like how Kyle seemed to care so much. "I had to, Kahl… she was gonna have your child. She can't have you." The chatroom was going crazy at the live drama. He ignored it.

Those beautiful green eyes flickered to the bat in Cartman's hand and then to his face. "I never fucked her."

"And you never will," Cartman promised, then laughed and pointed at Heidi's twisted mug with the bat. "Not with that face!"

Kyle snatched the bat from his hands and threw it aside. "You're stopping this. Right now!"

"Stop this? I've got twenty-five fucking G's that are going to the vets, Kahl!" Cartman bellowed. "I earned this!"

"This is blood money!" he snarled back. "Is that how you want your good deeds to end up? This isn't a charity drive, Cartman! It's a snuff film bet pool! What the fuck happened to you?! Why are you like this?!"

Cartman got right up into Kyle's face with unhinged anger. "I'M FED UP, KAHL! I'M SHOWING THE WHOLE FUCKING TOWN THAT YOU'RE MINE! NO ONE CAN HAVE YOU BUT ME! I CAN KEEP UP! I CAN KILL TOO! I CAN KILL ANY BITCH WHO TRIES TO GET THEIR HANDS ON YOU! I DESERVE TO BE IN A RELATIONSHIP WITH YOU ON FACEBOOK!"

Kyle paled - seriously paled - at Cartman's outburst. "This wasn't I wanted! Not from you. Not like this! You put an end to this stream right now!"

To his surprise, Cartman held the switchblade threateningly at him. "I'm gonna finish this telethon, Kyle! I'm going to make my first kill for all of the internet to see! Then I'll understand! Then I'll finally be to everyone's level!"

He barely even blinked before Kyle suddenly pounced on him with a swiftness befitting his paranoia. Cartman let out a strangled gasp when Kyle twisted his armed hand in an unnatural angle and was suddenly gathered up into a desperate embrace.

"No…" Kyle's breath burned into his shoulder. "Not like this. You don't want this on your conscience, Eric. You don't! It fucking sucks, dude! Everyone in this fucking town is shit, but you're still whole! You're still pure!"

"The fuck is your problem?" Cartman sneered. "I grew some fucking balls, Kahl! That's what you wanted, isn't it?!"

"I DIDN'T WANT THIS!" Kyle pulled away and hysterically gestured to the bodies. "You don't have to kill anyone to prove shit, Eric! I just wanted you to be confident, not go fucking Mother Theresa on me!"

Before Cartman could scream back, Kyle slammed their lips together. He struggled until he felt Kyle's tongue press against his teeth. With a sigh, Cartman opened his mouth to the invasion, unable to deny Kyle anything. Even _now_.

"I wouldn't be with you if I didn't like the way you were." Kyle's lips felt pleasant against his jaw. "I wasn't afraid to tell the world about us. _You_ were."

Kyle and his stupid, but beautiful gay speeches. The words struck a chord deep within Cartman. It turned him inside out. The madness in his blue eyes began to dim at his reassuring touch.

"Stop it," Kyle begged when Eric refused to respond. "Just stop it. They're not dead yet. I won't let them stain you. Do you hear me, Eric? Just _stop_."

His bloodlust crashed so hard from Kyle's words, Eric visibly flinched. Slowly, his even breathing turned into tiny gasps once he realized what he had done. He had attacked two people and nearly beat them to death. He sullied his own charity drive in blind madness.

Every soft press of Kyle's lips broke down the darkness that seethed within him, chasing it back into the deep recesses of his mind where it belonged. Eric suddenly sobbed and he clung to Kyle's jacket. He didn't want to see what he had done - what he almost did made his legs weak.

"Kyle…" he whimpered. "What have I done…? The fuck did I do?!"

"It's okay." Kyle's voice was strong and reserved. Eric desperately clung to the reassuring sound. "I'll take care of it."

The livestream was still going. Everyone and their grandma had just witnessed the rise and breakdown of Eric Cartman. Kyle flashed a disdainful look at the camera before reaching for it.

"Show's over," he snarled. With a press of a button, the livestream went dark.


	10. The Eighth Night of Hanukkah

When Eric woke up, he was dressed down in his boxers and curled into a very warm comforter. He opened his eyes a fraction and inhaled the furred texture. It smelled like Kyle. Even the window placement was all wrong. This wasn't his room.

Eric tilted his head up from the pillow and looked through the frosted glass. Snow was coming down in full force today. He could even hear the wind howl gently against the walls. Only an idiot with a death wish would want to venture outside today.

Too exhausted and lazy to check his surroundings, he bundled the blanket up to his chin and tried to sleep again. Eric had hoped - prayed - that everything had been a bad dream. He didn't almost murder Heidi. Kyle didn't hate him.

Something shifted to his right. It was only when he turned did he discover that he was in Kyle's room again.

His lover's breathing wasn't as labored like usual. A thrum of utter guilt hit him hard. Kyle always fell into a deep sleep around him because he used to trust Eric. Not anymore. Not from the way he had behaved last night. Kyle had made it very clear on the ride back that he didn't know how he could 'fix' what was wrong with him.

Eric grit his teeth hard and tried to suppress another sob. He ruined this. Kyle's safe space was gone. It was all his fault.

When Eric tentatively reached out and brushed the bandage on Kyle's shoulder, those green eyes instantly snapped open. That hurt more than anything else in this world. His fears came to life. Kyle didn't trust him and there was nothing he could do about it.

"I'm sorry…" Eric whimpered and pressed his lips against the wound. "You can't sleep around me anymore. I'm so sorry, Kyle. I don't know what…"

"I guess that shit was going to happen sooner or later." Kyle's response was hoarse. Maybe he slept a little deeper than he expected. Eric held onto a bit of hope when Kyle's hand came up and slid down his arm. It wasn't much, but for Kyle he might as well be shushing him and collecting him into his arms. "How do you feel?"

"Bad. I've never felt so bad in my life." Eric slipped under Kyle's arm and nuzzled his chest. "I don't want to remember it. But… I feel glad."

Kyle paused. "Glad?"

"I want to protect you, Kyle," Eric said softly. "That's why… that's why it happened. I didn't want them to get away with it. I hurt them, Kyle. I'm… I'm capable of doing it." He lifted his head up and peppered Kyle's lips with kisses. "But I'd never hurt you. Never, Kyle. Never. I love you so much…"

"I know you do," Kyle replied before he flipped them over. His reciprocation was to deepen the kiss and press Eric into the sheets until they were buried in pillows and comforters. A soft sigh of pleasure left Eric's lips until Kyle devoured it completely.

This was heaven. Pure, _sinless_ heaven, and Eric didn't feel like he deserved it. He was lost the moment Kyle sucked eagerly on his tongue, uncaring of whatever morning breath they had.

Unlike last night, there was a kind of tenderness to Kyle's touch. It was soft and forgiving and completely indulgent. Eric was left breathless and dizzied when Kyle shifted between his legs and cocked his hips forward. It was a slow, rhythmic grind that asked for no rush. Eric could literally count the exact second where Kyle twitched to life against him as they rocked lazily together.

Kyle stopped and looked down at Eric's flushed cheeks and the shy part of his lips with a relieved expression. "I was afraid I'd never see that again."

"S-see what?" Eric whispered, his voice cracking.

"This." Kyle's fingers slid down Eric's cheek and pressed down against his full lips. "You. The innocence. It's beautiful, you know that?"

Eric swallowed hard. "But… you said I needed to get rid of that."

"No I didn't. You implied like you always do," Kyle hissed. "I said you needed to straighten up and realize this world isn't kind to people like you."

"You're kind to me," Eric countered softly. Those green eyes widened when he reached up and brushed the soft curls from the nape of Kyle's neck. "That's why I still believe. You're my… unh… hah…!"

Kyle had suddenly bent forward and licked his nipple. Eric threw his head back and let out a sharp cry when Kyle bit down and teased the other with a pinch of his fingers.

"Is that thing inside you loyal to me?"

Eric blinked through the haze of pleasure in confusion. "W-what…?" His query was lost along with his breath when Kyle grabbed his throat with both hands and squeezed. Eric squirmed violently beneath his lover, his dick wilting from the sudden violence. "K-Kyle…" he gasped.

His grip tightened until Eric nearly rolled his eyes back from the lack of oxygen, his nails scraping down his wrists for release. Just as Kyle slowly eased up from crushing his windpipe, Eric's hand suddenly shot up and dug his nails hard into Kyle's wrist, his blue eyes sharp and wild.

Kyle peered inquisitively at the sudden change in his lover's personality. Cartman gnashed his teeth at him.

"F-fuck…!" he hissed. "Lay off you fucking Jew!"

"So I wasn't wrong," Kyle said, his fingers relaxing as Eric's alternative personality resurfaced. "You were the one who killed Heidi."

Cartman's chest heaved up and down for air, but he recovered by smiling indulgently at him and licking his lips. "Uh… newsflash, Kahl. I didn't kill anyone. I seem to remember you slitting their throats for me before tossing them in the lake." Those dark blue eyes sized Kyle up and purred. "God, you're amazing. And you did it so naturally. You're the man of my dreams."

Kyle's eyebrow quirked up. "Is that so?"

"Yeah…" he said dreamily. "I've been into you since forever, babe."

Kyle cut to the chase. "I woke this part of you up because you want me to trust you again. Do you think I should now that you let out that Pandora's Box in your head?"

"You'd be an idiot trusting anyone," Cartman answered thickly. There was nothing better than polite conversation and an eyeful of Jewish meat. "But I'm the exception. You're mine, Kahl."

"You've got that shit backwards," Kyle hissed. "You belong to _me_."

Cartman relaxed into the sheets with a pleased hum. "Then we've come to an agreement, don't you think?" When Kyle sighed and sat up, Cartman raised himself up on his elbows and stroked his firm, slender chest. "Still don't trust me?"

"I trust Eric," Kyle corrected. "It's _you_ that's ambiguous."

"You'll never have to worry about me," he whispered with a lewd swipe of his tongue. "We're of one mind. Just a teeny-tiny bit fractured. I still want to be a good boy for you."

"I'm going to tell you what I told Eric," Kyle began, ignoring the way Cartman started to suckle at his throat. "I don't want you doing that shit again. If there's a problem, you come to me. Do you hear me?"

"Crystal," Cartman purred against his throat. "You going to baby me, Kahl? That's kind of hot. I've got my own sexy Jew boy at my beck and call. Mm… yeah. I _do_ like that…" His hands slipped lower until he had that kosher cock right in the palm of his hands. He stroked once to gauge the way Kyle's eyes darkened, but there was little reaction aside from that.

It sounded like a challenge. "I love you, Kahl~" he said in his sweetest tone. As expected, Kyle's sharp features softened. He could use this to his advantage.

Before he could, Kyle's eyes narrowed and he slammed their lips together in a harsh kiss. Cartman moaned wantonly when Kyle shoved him hard back onto the bed.

"I wonder…" Kyle tilted his head in a way that made Cartman actually tremble, "if it's possible to put you two back together."

Cartman smirked nervously. "What?"

"They say trauma causes personalities to split," Kyle explained with a whisper. "If I fuck you so hard, do you think that'll be enough?"

"Uh, if you actually think so, Dr. Broflovski. I personally don't think you can literally fuck someone mentally back together," Cartman teased. "E for effort, though."

"I don't think you understand how logic works around here," Kyle explained, pushing Cartman's chest down so hard, he started to instinctively squirm. "Everything can be solved with a good, thorough fucking. I'll snap you back together if it's the last thing I do."

"Okay, seriously, you are NOT going to fuse me with that pussylicker," Cartman hissed. He thrashed around when Kyle pinned his wrists firmly to the bed and bit him so hard in the throat, he cried out in pain. "Ow! Knock it off, asshole!"

"Yes. Yes I am," Kyle promised with a growl. He ground their hips down so hard, Cartman's eyes widened and he let out a gasp too late, giving Kyle the prime moment to stick his tongue down his throat. Kyle's teeth sunk into Cartman's lips instead when the bigger boy gnashed his teeth closed too fast for his tongue. "Open, Cartman," he warned, his nails digging deep into the bigger boy's wrists. Cartman cried out in pain again. "And if you bite my tongue, I'll tear off your _beytsim_."

Cartman snarled in response, so Kyle bit down so hard on his bottom lip it started to bleed. He let out a howl from the pain. Kyle quickly sealed his mouth over Cartman's, feasting on the blood and saliva against his tongue. Cartman bitched and moaned beneath him, his hips squirming under his in a fit for dominance.

"So uncooperative…" Kyle commented the moment he tore his mouth away. Blood and saliva dripped down his chin and Cartman couldn't help but groan at the sight. "That's the problem with people who had their first taste of violence. So you've beat someone within an inch of their life - big whoop. You've got the raw shit, but you've got a lot to learn dealing with a veteran." His gaze steeled. "And I know how to get you on your hands and knees."

To his credit, Cartman struggled every inch of the way. Unfortunately for him, Kyle's threat wasn't as empty as he thought. He exploited every inch of his heavy lover, his fingers pressing into the seam of his groin and thigh, knowing exactly where he could render Cartman docile as he tore off his boxers.

Before Cartman could even rub two brain cells together, Kyle had flipped him onto his stomach and forced a dry digit inside of him. "G-guh… you motherfucker…!" Cartman panted, his mouth sinking into the pillow as he groaned.

"Hmm… I suppose Liane would be my type," Kyle responded with a crook of his finger. Cartman nearly bumped his head right into the headboard when he jumped. "Sweet and psychotic. Just like you. But don't worry. You're more than a handful for me."

Cartman was still open and slick from yesterday's activities. Kyle wasted no time adding a second finger to test how far he could go without lube. Cartman thrashed and squeezed around his fingers, unaware that he was only heightening Kyle's arousal by fighting. "Oh god…" Kyle decided with a breathless grin. "Look at you squirm. Are you _that_ against my dick inside of you?"

A deep groan was his answer.

Kyle slid a third digit in and suddenly shoved them all the way to the knuckle, feeling Cartman's thighs tremble in a mixture of pain and pleasure. As he worked those muscles, he pressed his chest against Cartman's bare back and put an end to the squirming once and for all. "That's enough of that," Kyle purred and crooked his fingers hard against his prostate.

Cartman jerked forward into the pillows and whined. Not just any whine - it sounded exactly like Eric's. Kyle smirked in triumph. "There you are, _shayn_."

"F-f-fuck you…" Cartman whimpered when Kyle peppered kisses along his shoulders.

"I don't allow swearing in my bed," Kyle said sharply. He turned his fingers again and pushed into that perfect spot, leaving Cartman to expel a mess of delicious sounds that had Kyle hard and leaking against the back of his thigh. "Do I, Eric?"

Eric responded with a sob. "N-no…"

Kyle's fingers stilled, intentionally waiting until Eric couldn't help but push back for more. He never thought he'd see the day where he needed to break Eric down, but maybe this was something that was a long overdue.

It was always the sweet ones you had to watch out for.

Eric was still squirming, his thoughts banked by heat and his darker personality floating just barely in the surface. Kyle wanted this. He wanted to see if he could snap two pieces of a puzzle together that could never naturally fit - even if it meant cutting the corners to make it happen. Eric needed the darkness somehow to survive and the only way to be sure was to let _all_ of Eric know that Kyle was perfection - someone to covet and never stray from. He would fuck the loyalty out of him if it was the last thing he ever did.

"The more you fight, the more humiliating it'll be," Kyle said, and his smug tone made Eric snap his head over his shoulder and grit his teeth. "Wrong answer."

Kyle pulled his fingers entirely out of him and Eric tried to force down a whimper over the lost. His newfound confidence waned while his cock throbbed into the mattress. It was infuriating how much he wanted to just give in and yet feel completely empowered.

He was not given much time to compose his thoughts because Kyle had finished lubing himself up before he mercilessly shoved into him. Eric let out a howl and braced himself hard against the sheets when Kyle seated himself all the way to the hilt.

It was like something snapped in his head. Eric furiously tried to buck him off, but Kyle perfected the art of entrapment. He could do no more than thrash and endure the humiliation and pleasure of being filled up with someone's cock inside of him.

The bed rocked a bit when Kyle experimentally shifted, his low grunt reminding Eric all too much like an animal than a human. The longer they remained locked, the more reality sank in, and he had to come to grips with the breaking. Like his ass, Eric was growing accustomed to the invasion, and he parted his legs a bit more to slide Kyle deeper in.

"That's it…" Kyle hissed into his ear. "Take it all in… fucking take it!"

Eric panted at the command. The pain wasn't as bad as yesterday, but Kyle had never been this vicious until now. He wondered how much he had been holding back at Eric's expense.

Once he finally settled down, Kyle started to move. It was slow, but precise - and every thrust was designed to penetrate so deep, Eric couldn't help but whimper in time to the bed frame smacking against the wall. That, along with the maddening scrape of that hot chest against his back, was literally fucking his entire senses up. And when Kyle shifted his hips higher so he could reach around and squeeze his neglected dick, the sounds Eric made were completely inhuman and incoherent.

Just when he was near the edge of climax, Kyle pulled out and the loss left Eric gasping for more. Kyle flipped him onto his back and Eric got an eyeful of his sweat slicked chest and the trimmed cock in his palm.

"Look at you…" Kyle smiled at him, his green eyes alight and heady. "You act like you've never been fucked before."

The words came out before he could even think it through. "F-fuck yo-omfph!" Kyle's hand came down hard across his lips, silencing him completely.

"If you can't follow the house rules, you have to be punished," Kyle uttered thickly. "I think we should cut out your tongue."

Eric's eyes widened and he desperately tried shaking his head. He'd do it too. _Literally._ Swallowing down his pride, Eric fluttered his eyes closed and moaned into Kyle's hand, his tongue flickering against his palm. With a wry grin, Kyle slipped a finger into his mouth. Then another. Eric worked the digits around his tongue and into his throat, trying not to gag.

"Hmm… you make a fair argument," Kyle teased. His other hand slid down and pried Eric's trembling thighs open. Helpless and pliant beneath him, Kyle pushed himself back in with a generous sigh.

The bed slowly started to rock again and each time Kyle would thrust, so would the fingers in Eric's throat. He tried desperately to swallow around them, but he lost his last bit of control the moment Kyle angled his thrusts and hit him head on in the prostate. A keening moan seeped against Kyle's fingers and saliva started to drip down Eric's chin the faster Kyle pushed into him.

It was too much. His neglected cock strained and bounced against his belly. He almost lost it when Kyle accidentally moaned aloud and nearly gagged when Kyle squeezed him around the base of his cock to stop him from climaxing.

Frustrated, Eric wrenched his mouth away from Kyle's fingers. "K-kahl…" he said hoarsely. "I can't…!"

"You don't come until I do." Kyle was panting hard now, his stoic act unraveling at the seams. He pulled Eric's knees against his chest and dipped down, catching his lips in a rough, desperate kiss. Eric moaned and eagerly pushed upwards to meet him halfway, his arms wrapping around Kyle's neck as they rocked so hard the headboard bounced loudly against the wall again. Poor Ike.

"Ngh… ahh…!" Eric sobbed out. It was like a goddamn exorcism. Pillows were being shifted off, the sheets were sliding all over the place under them. Even the _ceiling_ seemed to be shuddering overhead. "Oh god… n-more…!"

"More?" One particular thrust was so tight, Eric saw stars.

His fingers clawed down Kyle's back, leaving red marks down pale freckled skin. He couldn't handle anymore. "N-no… no more! I can't…!"

"Denied." Every syllable was punctuated by a thrust. Kyle squeezed his purpling cock even more, refusing his release.

Eric desperately fisted through his crimson curls in plea. He threw his head back in agonizing pleasure when kisses was no longer an adequate offering to get Kyle to finish. The pace was unrelenting. He couldn't catch his breath. Everything south of his abdomen was tightly coiled and throbbing for release. "Please… oh god, please…!"

He wasn't fucking kidding. He really _was_ trying to fuck him into a brain aneurysm.

Whatever was left coherent in his mind unraveled. His newly found resolve shattered and his legs untangled in a boneless heap, inviting more of him for Kyle to thrust into. Eric literally short-circuited from an overload of pleasure and exhaustion. All that was left was to hang on and let Kyle do away with him entirely.

"That's it…" Kyle said with a breathless sound of pride. "Break for me… more… that's it…" And when those blue eyes flashed at him once last time, the last flare of resistance from the darkness within Eric, Kyle simply grinned and kissed those pliant lips.

He loosened his grip on Eric's cock and stroked him once, twice - Eric was gone by the first stroke. Eric jackknifed so hard off the bed, he almost bucked Kyle off completely as he climaxed. The world, if not for a split second, was fissured back into its proper place.

Kyle finished inside him not too long afterwards, his thrusts erratic and rushed while Eric still twitched beneath him. With a bloodcurdling howl that quickened his pulse, Eric's eyes widened in alarm when he felt something hot and thick fill him up, Kyle's hips still canting as he rode out his orgasm. Kyle didn't put on a condom, but the last thing on Eric's mind right now was to preach about safe sex to someone who clearly didn't give a shit.

Instead, he opened his arms to Kyle as he collapsed on top of him. The next couple of minutes was nothing except for the sound of heavy breathing and the delightful whimper Eric made when Kyle finally eased out of him with a snort of content.

When Eric finally found his voice, it was cracked and sore from the abuse of his throat. "You weren't kidding."

"Are you seriously talking right now?" Kyle grumbled before he rolled off of him and searched for his cigarettes. "You know, I'm not fond of this entire week of celibacy. If you were gonna prove a fucking point to me, don't hold sex hostage. It didn't do anything to you."

Eric watched through half-lidded eyes as Kyle picked up what looked like his hoodie from last night and wiped himself down. Kyle paused, took a second look at the jacket, and then tossed it at his head. "Merry Christmas, asshole," he hissed around the cigarette.

So it really had been meant for him. Eric sighed and unfolded the soft fabric now stained with the blood of his victims and Kyle's cum. Lovely. "Did you find my…?"

Kyle raised his right hand, revealing a very handsome titanium watch that made Eric's heart skip a beat. "I can't believe you didn't notice it."

"Oh, I'm sorry, Kahl. Did you want me to remember every freckle on your body too while I'm at it? I was too busy deepthroating your entire fist!" The sarcasm dripped through as naturally as breathing. To his surprise, Kyle simply lit up and joined him back in bed.

"This is gonna be real fucking hard to get used to with that new mouth of yours," Kyle drawled. Eric pinched his lips and reluctantly wiped himself down with the jacket before he apologetically curled against Kyle's side. There was nothing he could do - it was ruined anyways.

He didn't want to admit it aloud but it felt… _good_ to vent like that. It was like something he should have done years ago.

* * *

He ended up having to call his mother and explain to her that yes he was alive, and no he wasn't permanently brain damaged by what had transpired last night. Of all the people he wished they didn't see the livestream, his mother was one of them.

And it didn't help that his Facebook exploded with friend requests and tagged statuses just begging and bitching about what happened after Kyle cut off the feed. The truth was no one except him and Kyle knew the status of Heidi and Ron and it was becoming the talk of the snowed in town. Nature itself demanded they stay their murderous butts indoors today.

But a small blessing did present itself. With everything caught in a blizzard, the last candle on the Broflovski's family menorah was shared privately instead of another party. Eric watched respectfully from his perch on the couch while they lit up the final candle and made preparations for dinner.

Kyle's parents were surprisingly warm to his extra company. Sheila made no fuss about adding an extra set on the table while Gerald made an offhanded remark about kickstarters that made Eric flush in embarrassment. Ike couldn't stop looking at him either - like he was witnessing some kind of alien for the first time - and it was annoying enough that Kyle had to order his Canadian ass out of the living room.

"Look at you, Mr. Popular," Kyle drawled before flopping right next to him. He fished a cigarette from his pocket. "Even _Stan_ won't shut up about you."

Sheila popped her head out of the kitchen the moment Kyle flipped open his lighter. "No smoking in living room, bubbe!"

"Fuck." He tucked the cigarette behind his ear instead. "Where the hell am I supposed to smoke? There's like six feet of snow out on the porch!"

Eric tentatively sighed and lowered his phone. "They know." _About us._

"Yeah, so?"

"Are you okay with that?" Eric asked softly. "It's not one random person that saw us. Everyone saw you reach for me in the livestream."

Kyle rolled his eyes and leaned against the cushion. "Dude, I told you I had no problem with you. You're the one who assumed I did."

Eric clutched his phone tightly in his palm. "Then why aren't we in a relationship on Facebook?"

"Oh goddammit. This shit again. Look, you never sent me the notification," Kyle said so simply, it made Eric's jaw drop. _Seriously?_

Kyle's cigarette nearly fell off when Eric grabbed him by the front of his shirt and pulled him in hard. "You're being unnecessarily rough today," Kyle purred with a quirk of his eyebrow.

"I was waiting for _you_ to send me the notification!" Eric whined, his fingers twisting into his silky tie. "I thought you didn't want anyone to know about us!"

"Okay, seriously? When did I ever force _anything_ on you, Cartman?" Kyle lifted up a finger and counted out. "Our first kiss? I made sure you agreed to it first. First blow job? I gave you an option out of it. First time we fucked? I waited until you said it was okay. I was fucking _patient_ with your tubby ass because I knew you were into the whole romantic shit."

Eric's eyes widened. Now that Kyle was mentioning it, he started to remember things in a new light. Kyle _could_ have taken advantage of him. It was so easy, he should have, but he didn't. "Why?" he croaked. "You could've done anything to me if you-"

"-you're the only pure thing I've got," Kyle muttered so quietly, Eric was almost sure he imagined it. "For once in my life, I just want to have something… something _good_. Bad is easy. It's seriously easy. But when I see you do good, it's amazing. I just fucking hate the fact that you can get so fucking oblivious, people can take advantage of it."

It was baffling. Eric could only sit there slack jawed while Kyle fiddled angrily with his cigarette and poured his heart out in a way he'd never seen before. With a slow, easy smile, Eric leaned forward and brushed his lips against Kyle's. "But I'm not pure anymore," he answered sadly. "My charity drive is ruined."

"Not exactly," Kyle said with a thoughtful look. "Check your kickstarter."

Aside from the ten grand rescinded by the Tweaks for failing to deliver on the televised killings, fifteen thousand remained in the donation pool, but as far as Eric was concerned, it wasn't meant for the vets. "I can't accept it," Eric sighed. "Like you said, it's blood money."

"No, it's an informant reward," Kyle corrected. "The Tweaks can get fucked, but the others didn't pull out. Craig's thrown it all over Twitter. You saved our asses telling us about Middle Park. It's only fair this fucking town gave you the respect you deserved."

Eric's eyes couldn't get any wider. "You mean… people like me now?"

"They think you've gone batshit crazy. And they think you've got me on some kind of fucking leash now because you grew some balls. It's degrading," Kyle spat out ruefully, "but I'm not correcting the rumors. Consider it a Hanukkah present. You're welcome."

His charity drive was still gold. A thrum of peace and content washed over Eric. "Thanks, Kahl." He kissed him again. "This is all I've ever dreamed about! My goals were met, I'm with you for Hanukkah…"

"We're not done yet," Kyle countered. "Check your notifications."

Eric's heart literally leaped into his throat when he scrolled down. Facebook was asking to accept his new relationship status with Kyle Broflovski. "Oh, I dunno… what if I accidentally hit 'no'?"

Kyle looked scandalized. "Then you're shit out of luck! I'm only sending it out once."

That sounded like a promise. His fingers shaking, Eric made sure he pressed the 'yes' button and, just like that, a status automatically popped up on his timeline with the little heart and everything.

 _Kyle Broflovski and Eric Cartman are in a relationship._

Likes and comments started pouring in - most if not all of them positive for their newest diabolical couple. Red, ever the self-proclaimed portmanteau namer for every teenage couple in South Park, began trending the new hashtag all over the feed.

"Kyman, huh?" Kyle noted offhandedly. "Sounds like a food spice."

"I love it," Eric whispered proudly. "It's perfect. We're perfect."

He had stared at the screen for so long, his phone flickered out to conserve the battery. From the blackened screen, he could see Kyle's reflection visibly smirk at him before he brushed his lips against Eric's ear. "We _are_ perfect."

Perhaps, through the looking glass, those same words were uttered. It may not be in the same context, nor the same circumstances that led them to those three single words, but they would always be a constant throughout each universe. Enemies, friends, lovers - Kyle Broflovski and Eric Cartman would always be dangerously intertwined with each other.

They were absolutely perfect.


End file.
